


Broken Chains

by Trewestriandta



Series: Chain Links [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M, NON CANON NON CANON
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2018-12-12 10:55:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11735601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trewestriandta/pseuds/Trewestriandta
Summary: These will be Snippets of story based off of Their Lady in Chains. Some will be my story line 'canon compliant', some will be very non canon for my non canon story.They're basically ideas and scenes that come to me and I write out and then never use. Sometimes because I take the story away from the path that led there (non canon non canon, can you tell I have fun with that one?) and sometimes because although I love the scene, it slows the story flow down. Whenever its a canon compliant one, I'll indicate what chapters it reads into.





	1. All Faded New for Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This scene would have occurred during Wicked Eyes in the Wicked Eyes, Wicked Hearts and Wicked Minds chapter schmorasboard, except that it didn't. For Reasons.
> 
> What COULD have happened if Dawn had been a little more aware and Solas a little more determined, and Cole a little more misguided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this entire scene is Non-canon to my story, Their Lady in Chains. I was having a crap day and offered to write Avalantia, the best fanfic support ever, a smut story. She got to pick a pairing, I picked the content and you all get a look at a night that could have been.

Her entire body still hummed with adrenaline and emotions, and the lingering sensations of dancing. The bath had helped clean her skin but Dawn still felt muddied by her experiences, the great, the good, and the sad. She didn't exactly want to wash all that away yet though. The dress was hung up carefully, and she couldn't help but run her hand over it reverently; loving how it felt only slightly less than how she felt while wearing it. She hadn't realized her body had changed that much in the year* she'd been on Thedas but apparently Solas had been paying attention. A part of her really liked that thought which was just inappropriate. For all the rumours their physical comfort and supposed intimacy had started tonight, and the Elvhen mistakenly thinking they were married, Dawn forcibly reminded herself that he was a Lavellan-mancer ONLY. Her ears were a little too round to fulfill that little fantasy.

Still she'd felt like sex made flesh and that was even before they'd danced for all the Orlesian Court to see. Dawn had always had a little bit of an exhibitionist streak, anyone who sang had to, but this had been something else entirely. She'd forgotten that people were watching, too wrapped up in trying to keep a serious expression on her face even as she screwed up some of the steps, and then too caught up in just following as Solas took the lead and she trusted her steps to follow.

And she'd cursed Hawke a few times tonnight too, her icy blonde friend's 'he's buff for an apostate' remark all too true. Even hidden under layers of clothing his body had been Ironwood to the touch and her brain helpfully paraded the memory of his soaking wet and barely dressed. Because it wasn't enough that she admittedly wanted to 'ride the Bull', she had to go and fall for the Egg too. She knew he wouldn't reciprocate, and putting any thought into it was just masochistic angst prodding.

"And none of this is helping you sleep, idiot." Dawn muttered to herself, still tossing and turning fitfully.

Every time she'd try to relax her mind would wander to the memory of hands caressing across her body, the smirk on the tricky wolf's face morphing into an honest smile, and how wrecked he'd looked after she'd sung in his language. It was not restful. At best she'd drop into a light doze, maybe a few seconds of peace, but the moment she let her mind go it dove right into the kind of dreams that had sent her running for a Templar last time.

The knock at her door was almost a relief, even if it was unexpected at the late hour. So when she saw that it was Solas knocking Dawn couldn't help the guilty flush that inevitably stained her face. And of course he saw it, dark eyebrows jumping in amusement even as he smirked lightly. Her flustered façade wasn't helped at all when she realized that Solas had only the linen half-pants most seemed to sleep in here, the wolf bone a stark note against the paleness of his chest. It was an act of mortified willpower that had her keep here eyes trained from collar bone up only.

"Is everything alright Old Wolf?" Dawn swallowed and reminded herself to have some manners; she opened the door to let him in, realizing that the rumours would _not_ be helped if someone saw him standing outside her room half naked. She also ignored the part of her brain that got giddy over the naked part.

Solas stepped in so she could close the door, still seeming amused by her flush. "Cole said you needed me but that it wasn't an emergency."

Dawn knew the furious blush spread down to her collar bone now, her shoulders slumping and hands coming up to cover her face. And she'd thought the conversation with Cullen had been bad. The first time she had gotten aroused and she ran to an ex-Templar in fear of demons, this time Compassion had sent the figment of her fantasy to her door.

"You've run to me when your heart was breaking Ena'vun and held me through my own, what could you possibly be embarrassed by me knowing?" Solas' humour sparked her embarrassed defensiveness.

"I'm sorry that I find it embarrassing to admit that I was just having a sex dream about you when I know you're only interested in Elvhen ladies, and oh my god I forgot to switch to English..." the blood drained out of her face so quickly Dawn felt dizzy as she realized what she'd just done. The glimmer of surprise on his face had been enough of a kick in the gut to warn her. "Can we please pretend I didn't just say all of that?" Dawn's voice was muffled as she once again hid behind her hands.

"Is that what your world story has you believing?" his amusement all but dripped off the words but when she looked at him in shock Solas looked intensely serious. "All of my past lovers have been from my People yes, but do not forget Ena'vun; I very much consider you mine too."

She was still trying to process his words when Solas stepped close into her personal space; since they were the same height the eye contact was startlingly direct. His hand was warm on her cheek even over the fading blush, and the one he curled behind her back was scorching through the cotton of her nightshift as he kissed her. Her own hands felt shockingly cold against the skin of his chest, Solas' heart beat strongly pounding under her palm. The jawbone pendant was smooth under her other hand, worn down by years and the cord strong but pliable. His chest felt etched from marble and like fandom expected, he did not have a single hair on his chest. But there was a darkly tempting line Dawn had noticed earlier, starting under his navel and disappearing under the pants he slept in, reminding her that at one time he had a wild head of hair.

His hand slid from cheek to tangling fingers into her hair, and the kiss left chaste behind. His teeth impatiently scored her bottom lip and Dawn gasped, arms lacing behind his neck as he backed her against the door. Solas' body pressed tight against hers, hand moving from her back to stroking fingers against her thigh, finally firmly grabbing it against his hip. A distant part of her brain had a giggle that this wasn't all that different from their dance earlier, it was just the finishing steps. And like their earlier performance, he already knew all the choreography. Both of her legs were wrapped around his waist now, his fingers digging delicious marks into her thighs as he pressed her into the door.

Her nightgown had bunched up her legs, the thin linen of his trousers the only barrier between them and Dawn was fairly certain that the strangled sound was Solas feeling how very excited she already was. But not entirely certain because she could feel him hard and uncomfortably bound by the pants and her body instinctively ground against him while she made desperate noises.

Solas broke the kiss to put his forehead to hers, chest heaving as he seemed to fight for control, voice ragged as he muttered in Elvhen. Dawn only made out some of what he was saying, but only understood the name he used for her, "...ha'misemah Ena'vun."

She did not want to be thinking about translating languages right now, her body was twisted with frustrated desire. "Old Wolf, I have expectations..." she lightly teased and saw a flash of Pride in his eyes.

"When Cole said you needed me Ena'vun, I did not think he meant pal'isalathe, but I am glad to be yours to turn to." he smirked before stepping them away from the door. Dawn clung on tighter; being dropped was a mood breaker and if what he'd said translated to anything close of 'climbing the walls horny' it was spot on.

The bed in her room was ridiculous and Solas had no trouble kneeling onto it to lay her onto the stupidly soft comforter. Kneeling between her legs and only illuminated by the moonlight through the windows, Solas was absolutely gorgeous and Dawn tried not to think too hard about how visually poetic it was that the wolf bone hung down his chest. He didn't give her more time to admire him though, Solas surprisingly easily shifted them away from the edge of the bed before resting his hands against her thighs while he kissed her once again. And the trickster distracted her just enough with his lips that she stopped paying attention to his hands. Without warning his hands skimmed up her thighs, over the curve of her hips and under the hem of her nightgown to curl across her rib cage, and Dawn squirmed with how much the caress tickled while it tantalized. He'd used her wiggling to pull the nightgown right off her and Dawn felt her blush return for being stripped bare by the Dread Wolf.

"Gaelathe." he sounded haggard and even if she didn't know what the word meant it felt damn sexy to hear him that overwrought.

He didn't kiss her lips next, when he swooped down his mouth chased butterfly kisses and sharp little nips down her collar bone until he reached her breast. Solas' hands once again caressed across her body as they had while dancing but this time he wasn't held back by polite social constraints. He cupped one over her breast, fingers kneading around her nipple even as his other hand dragged fingernails carefully over her hip bone and just under her navel. Dawn's hands were holding onto his biceps, hanging on desperately, and when he finally stroked fingers lower Dawn let out a strangled little mewl for how slowly he teased her.

"Soollasssss." Dawn softly moaned and felt him give a sharp nip to her breast in response. His hands and mouth left her body, forcing her to open her eyes.

She definitely saw the Wild in his eyes as Solas' elegant hands quickly pulled free the ties holding his pants closed. He stripped them away efficiently and Dawn felt nearly sunburnt from toes to crown from her flush. The dark treasure trail on his stomach dropped into a darker thatch of hair that was a wonderful contrast to how pale and pretty his erect cock was. His skin was even paler than his chest though the head was flushed an alluring blush and Dawn felt her breath rush out as Solas gripped himself, fingers only slightly darker. He stroked his cock with slow, sure pumps that had Dawn gritting her teeth around a groan.

His thumb swiped through the precum beading at the tip and he looked down at his hand almost wonderingly. "I'd never understood isala'gara'scia'vallas before..." his eyes caught hers as he lowered his hand to rub his thumb against her sensitive clit. His other hand continued to slowly stroke the length of his erection, close enough between Dawn's legs that she could feel the heat of his skin.

Dawn's breath panted as he stopped the torturous teasing, his hand stilling as he kissed her; tasting as desperate as she felt. She pulled at his body, arching into the weight of him between her legs and more than eager to have him inside her already. His hands pulled her thighs wider, fingers ghosting along her clit teasingly before sliding his cock into her with the same  agonizing slowness he'd used to tease her ready. His hands and body seemed so controlled and tame compared to the sharp fury of his mouth, little bruises from his sucking and biting trickled from mouth to collar bone to nipple.

When he finally finished pushing in deep they both shuddered, Solas' breath ragged in her ears while her own had vanished entirely. His lips danced over the frantic heartbeat in her throat, teeth ghosting along her pulse point as he slowly pulled out. One of his thumbs started to trace distracting shapes against her clit and Dawn's entire body rippled with a shock of pleasure. Her desperate sounds broke through some of his careful control, Solas' hips staggering in their careful rhythm, the slow and steady thrusts that were only coiling the tension in her body higher broke into sharp frantic thrusts. He lost the concentration to tease, hands gripping tight to her hips to lift her body up to meet his own as he slammed into her. Behind her eyelids Dawn nearly saw flashes of white, the pleasure of each deep thrust blanking her mind entirely, but all too soon he regained mastery of himself, slowing once again.

Solas rested his forehead to hers, breaths mingling as he tamed frenetic need back to a controlled pace. Dawn's body screamed out in frustration even as she gloried in having the pleasure only continue to slowly coil. It had been so long since anyone had touched her this way and not being the one behind her own pleasure only heightened the experience for her now. "Solas please..." she didn't know what she was begging for, for him to keep teasing her slowly until they both fell apart or for him to lose that damnable restraint and give them both the release they needed.

His eyes opened to look at her with a satisfied smile, his grip on her shifting so that he could change their position. Dawn gasped as he rolled them over, ending on his back with her above him, his body driving back deeply into hers. She let out a sound that wasn't entirely discreet and felt his fingers dig in as he tried to tame his response. It should not have surprised her with ears like that that Solas was into the sounds of love making, and they were probably sensitive to the touch too.

She decided to test the theory.

Dawn shifted her weight, feeling him surge inside her as she curled to teasingly whisper in his ear, "Arelasa ma Solas." And then she carefully caught the tip of his ear in her teeth for a quick scrape.

Solas shuddered under her, a ragged breath dropped from his chest and his fingers held her hips almost painfully tight as he thrust up into her sharply. There was a faint bluish glow in his eyes as he stared up at her in need, body driving into hers harder and faster now, barely holding himself back. He sat up enough to suckle her nipple sharply, the mix of pain and pleasure leaving her making noises with no words.

He had one hand curled around her back again, sitting up and taking command of the pace back despite how close to the edge she'd thought he'd been. He pulled his mouth from her breast suddenly and Dawn was surprised when she felt him press the jaw bone into the palm of her hand.

Her eyes opened to see him watching her intensely, the wolf's jaw bone pressed between both of their hands now and he wound the cord of the necklace about them both. "Areolasa ma Ena'vun." he kissed her lips almost chastely.

And she knew what he wanted to her say, was all  but pleading with her to say with his actions and words. And dammit but Dawn wanted to see the Dread Wolf have hope again. "Areolasa ma, Fen'Harel."

He stared at her with wide eyes as she finally stopped dancing around who he was to confirm to him that she knew. And it didn't matter to her one bit. The blue tint was gone, instead his eyes were completely consumed with the Power the Dread Wolf usually held hidden. And she wasn't at all afraid of it. This time his kiss wasn't chaste, his body still inside hers but his mouth desperate against her lips. He kissed her like he wanted to taste the words she'd spoken so he could keep the memory always on the tip of his tongue.

The kiss didn't stop when he wrapped his arm around her waist and drove his body up into hers. It didn't stop as his restraint eroded completely and Dawn felt her body quake with each thrust. It almost stopped when he finally, almost savagely ran a fingernail across her clit and she screamed into the kiss as her orgasm finally tore through her body. A few frantic thrusts later Solas followed her orgasm with his own, her body pulsing with echoing pleasure.

The kiss had stopped as he pulled away to rest his forehead against hers again, one hand still awkwardly wound to hers with the necklace, the other behind her back. His eyes were back to their more familiar hue and Dawn realized that in the height of passion she'd let slip another secret, but found she didn't care. Because although Fen'Harel was still in Solas' eyes, she also saw astonished hope. Cole had once told her a long time ago that if she'd asked Solas, he'd say yes. At the time she'd thought he meant only that Solas would trust her, now she was left wondering if Compassion had always known this was coming. He had sent Solas here tonight after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *yeah no, I do not believe Inquisition took place within a single year, not using foot and horse travel. So this part of the story IS canon to me, in that Dawn has been on Thedas approaching a year [but not quite there yet] (I head canon that the Conclave would have been scheduled for Wintersend for all the damn symbolism that date has to the cycle of life and shit)
> 
> Translation:  
> ha'misemah -> about to scream  
> pal'isalathe -> sexual need/ desire  
> Gaelathe-> perfect  
> isala'gara'scia'vallas -> when you lust for your partner so much you want to rub your cum into their skin (cum marking) {why the SHIT is there a word for this, but no a proper word for so many more frequently used phrases?!?!}


	2. All Faded New for Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of the previous chapter, what COULD have happened had Halamshiral gone a little differently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is very NON CANON to Their Lady in Chains because I knew I didn't have to make this work with what I have actually planned.  
> This would have been during the Wicked Hearts part of the chapter, and as thus you'll recognize some of the scene. BUT look close enough and you'll see some integral differences.  
> Also, I took 0 time to edit this so I apologize if there are really bad errors.  
> Enjoy.

It wasn’t so much that he had woken up before Ena’vun as that Solas hadn’t really fallen deeply asleep. A part of him had been afraid to wake up and realize it was just a dream and the fact that he now feared that option wasn’t lost on him. So instead of sleeping he had barely dozed, and then woke to experience the unique pleasure of seeing Dawn curled around him as if afraid he was the one that was going to disappear. She knew who he had been, all of who he had been, and still… For a split second he worried that last night had been another lust driven fantasy; it had been too perfect. But he didn’t jolt from sleep to be desolate and alone in his own room; instead Ena’vun opened her eyes and looked thrilled to still have him there with her.

All because Cole had come to his room with a wonderfully timed message about how ‘the rising sun needed the Wolf.’ Compassion had come to him every time there had been an event involving Dawn but this time he’d lacked the urgency of an emergency, so Solas had been curious but not concerned. And he hadn’t stopped to question _why_ Dawn would have needed him at that time of night if it wasn’t an emergency.

He’d be forever grateful to himself for not hesitating. It had been a singular pleasure to see the flush of arousal on her cheeks and then realize that his arrival had only deepened it. Solas still hadn’t believed he was the cause until her distraction had left Dawn blurting out the truth and forgetting to disguise it in her native tongue. He had been **very** interested to learn that Ena’vun’s world story had left her believing he couldn’t love her, and enjoyed thoroughly proving otherwise. Having her settle to sleep in his arms had soothed something he hadn’t even realized was hurting inside.

“If your ears are that sensitive, how did you stand to get them pierced; didn’t it hurt?” Dawn’s curiosity was accompanied by gentle fingers tracing the shell of his ear, lightly gliding along the silver rings he’d donned for the first time since the fall of Arlathan.

“The first time yes, but although it has been some Time since I wore them the placements were still there.” Solas explained and turned his head to carefully catch her fingertip between his teeth. The same blush that had given her away last night danced across her skin now at his actions.

“So what’s a little pain if the end result is worth it?” her voice had a hoarse edge to it as he let her reclaim her finger.

His smile seemed to leave her flustered as Solas’ eyes dragged down to the bruises his attentions had left marked over her throat, collarbone, and breasts; though with the bed sheet offering concealment he could only see some of the first two. “It’s a sentiment you seem to agree with Ena’vun.” He pointed out before tugging the offending sheet away.

The blush on Dawn’s cheeks chased the sheet downwards and he enjoyed the surprised sound she made as he bared her once again. Solas expected he was going to greatly enjoy taking the layers off of her every chance he got.

“You certainly didn’t seem to mind the pain to make these.” Now he was the one gently tracing a finger across her skin; connecting the marks he’d left on her with an invisible line.

Her heartbeat pounded faster as his finger swiped across the imprint of teeth at her pulse, down to the sucked bruises along her clavicle, and to the already fading spots framing her nipple. Goosebumps accompanied the trail of his gaze, her blush deepening into growing arousal and the nipple he was carefully not touching stiffened into a point. When Solas lazily pulled his gaze back up to meet hers, Dawn’s breathing had gotten erratic and there was obvious desire in her eyes. He’d been a fool once to overlook the passions this woman held only just under the surface, and Solas Prided himself on never making the same mistake twice.

“Yes well, I have heard tales about your teeth.” Ena’vun teased back, carefully fighting the urge to squirm as his fingers continued to deliberately trace around her breast.

“And yet despite the warnings you may have heard here you are.” He hated to remind her of his grim past but his falon’saota deserved the truth, always.

“Areolasa ma, and not just from old stories.” her hand sought out the jawbone he’d reverently returned to its place around her neck.

His free hand caught hers and brought fingertips up so he could place a kiss against them. “I don’t think you know the gift you give me every time you say that.” Now he kissed her palm, his hand on her breast stirring to life again. “But it’s one I will enjoy trying to repay.” His smile turned wicked as she swallowed in reaction.

His gaze raked down her bared body again, Solas’ own nakedness offering no concealment for his arousal as he found only beauty in her form. He’d been astonished at her features in Haven when they’d first met, but that had been for how clearly _Other_ they’d marked her; now he cherished the curve of her bottom lip, the warm mess of her hair, and the bright laughter in her eyes. And right at that very moment he had an undeniable desire to continue memorizing the taste of her as she fell apart to his touch.

To that end Solas kissed her breastbone, moving from being curled next to her to sliding his body down over hers. His lips left a ticklish trail if the way she gasped and wriggled at their assault was any indication and he was both proud and slightly ashamed to see bruises on her thighs from his grip last night as he positioned between her thighs. He’d meant to be far gentler with Ena’vun but she had a way of ruining all of his plans in the best of ways. Like how responsive she seemed to be to his littlest of touches left him scrambling for his restraint.

The ecstatic sounds Dawn made were entirely unconscious, the blush on her cheeks likewise encouraging and beyond her control. As he bent his attention to learning exactly what his mouth could do to ruin her in return, Solas saw her fists catch in the sheets; desperate to find an anchor. A stroke of his fingers meant to titillate instead of satisfy elicited a wail from her that was all need and no actual words, and under his tongue Solas could still taste the small magics he’d drawn against her skin the previous night; his own spend holding power Ena’vun wouldn’t have felt. The glyphs would quickly fade unless reapplied, though he didn’t worry for that now.

Instead he worked his fingers into her body, lifting his face to warn gutturally, “Aravemah masreun Ena’vun.” Even if she didn’t understand the words he used, Solas could feel her react to his tone and actions.

His one hand was slick from her excitement and his other sought out his turgid arousal to grip tightly. The sound Dawn made when she saw him stroking himself in time to the swipes of tongue and press of fingers inside her undid all of his careful efforts. His forehead rested against her belly, fingers buried inside of her even as his body shuddered and his seed spurted out in pulses to land against the sheets.

There was a beautiful look of satisfaction in her eyes when he finally lifted his head, his own ears burning hotly because he hadn’t lost control like that since he was MUCH younger. “You ruin me Ena’vun.” He admitted hoarsely, pressing a soft kiss just above the curls between her legs.

“Would it help if I promise to help put you back together after?” her voice was breathy, and he could feel how close to the edge she still was.

He didn’t bother answering her, both hands holding her body open for his mouth. Seeming to have realized the power of her sounds, Dawn didn’t muffle the gasps and moans of pleasure his actions drew from her. And when she came for him, he knew the sounds had to reach the hallway beyond the door.

That was probably why whoever was out there had been waiting to knock.

Solas was still settled between her legs, his own body clamoring for them to ignore the distraction and continue drawing those magnificent sounds from his falon’saota. Dawn didn’t seem to know what to do, body still echoing her orgasm and eyes wide with surprise.

“Go away.” Solas called out, voice harsh as he realized that no matter what happened now his private moment with Dawn had ended. He wanted to take her away from the Orlesian Court, the Inquisition, the entire world, and lose them both in timeless pleasure.

Instead another firm knock at the door proved that their roles to play were still waiting. “Harbinger I bring news.” Leliana’s cultured tones gave nothing away of what she was thinking.

“She knows on how to pick the lock, she’s a Rogue.” Dawn’s tone was matter of fact and he looked at her to see amusement curling her lips.

“Is that supposed to encourage me to stop or keep going? I am not shy my Ena’vun.” Solas warned and saw surprise flash in Dawn’s eyes.

“You know, realizing that you’re an exhibitionist really shouldn’t surprise me after yesterday’s dance, but it does.” She smiled, taking out any criticism her words might have held.

Solas pressed a kiss just below her navel and finally, reluctantly moved away from her body. Since the sheets were currently unsuitable to use again, he offered her the nightgown that had been gladly discarded the night before and pulled on his own sleeping trousers to open the door before the Nightingale invited herself in.

Leliana’s face revealed nothing, neither judgment nor surprise, as Solas opened Dawn’s bedroom door to allow the Spymaster in. He closed the door but stayed right next to it, body language all but screaming that he was waiting for Leliana to leave already. Standing next to the bed and clothed enough for decency sake, Dawn was flushed but her chin was up.

“What news do you have Leliana?” Ena’vun’s tone was all business despite the smell of sex in the air and the awareness that Leliana had _waited_ for them to finish before knocking.

“Someone has put an assassination contract out on you.” Leliana warned simply and Solas felt his blood run cold. The Nightingale turned to direct her next words at him as well, “the Inquisitor has already been informed and the best option we have is to proceed as if _nothing_ has changed from our original plans. Both the Inquisitor and you have full dance cards for tonight, and despite the danger we need you to continue as planned.” She turned the focus back onto Dawn and Solas kept his opinion to himself.

So the Nightingale wanted to dangle his Ena’vun, his _falon’saota_ in front of the Court like bait and expected him to stand back and act nonchalant. Maybe it was time to show the little bird why a Wolf’s jaws are feared.

“Oh.” Dawn’s lost tone drew his focus off of homicide and Solas left the door to walk over to her side. “Why does someone want me dead?” she sounded so confused.

“You are the Harbinger for the Inquisition, an Offworlder with information none of us knows the breadth of. I’m more impressed that this is the first attempt we’ve learned of on your life.” Leliana’s words were doing nothing to help settle the spark of fear Solas saw in Dawn’s eyes.

He rested a hand against her back and Dawn blinked, looking at him with a thankful smile before looking at Leliana again. “What do I need to do?”

“Dance with the people on your card, out on the floor you’re the safest you can be. My people are trying to find the source of the contract and are hunting for the possible assassin. Other than that, behave as if this is just a party and you are here to impress.” The Spymaster encouraged.

“This is literally what you’ve been trying to get me ready for the entire ride in here.” Dawn seemed to settle with her own words, and Solas recalled the many, MANY times Leliana had launched an unexpected attack at Ena’vun during the dismal ride in.

“Yes.” Leliana didn’t sugar coat it; but she didn’t leave either. “We are going to have to rearrange the preparation schedule now though too; it is going to take some time to cover those marks for the dress you have tonight.” There was laughter in Leliana’s tone but not judgement.

“You could always leave them on display.” Solas hated the idea of covering them up; he wanted the entire world to see and know that she had been claimed. But that was a very uncivilized though and he knew better than to voice it.

Now Leliana looked at him, amusement and assessment in equal measure. “The Court has already decided what the dance yesterday meant and is reacting to those assumptions; to have the Harbinger openly displaying evidence to support it would likely make things worse for her, not better. Right now Dawn’s best defense is to deny, or support, nothing.”

“I feel like a _teenager_ trying to hide _hickeys_.” Dawn used unfamiliar words but the grumble in her voice was familiar. It helped to settle something inside to realize that she seemed as dissatisfied at the necessary deception as he was.

As Leliana stood expectantly, Solas knew she was waiting for him to leave. If he wanted to make what preparations he could to help protect Ena’vun, he would have to get working on them now. But first he drew Dawn’s focus onto himself entirely by leaning over to whisper in her ear, “Mav’in mathamah, Ena’vun.”

She blinked and flushed, again understanding tone more than words. “I am really going to have to start working on my Elvhen lexicon.”

He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips before finally walking back over to the Nightingale. “If anything happens to her, I know who to hold responsible.” His warning was simple and voiced low so Dawn wouldn’t hear it.

Leliana, despite the threat, smiled. “You’re not the only one that wants to keep her alive Solas.” She replied simply and opened the door for him to step out.

He had several hours in which to get himself as prepared as possible for a likely attack on Ena’vun; it would not be enough time. Cole flitted into view as Solas threw open his own bedroom door, likely called by Solas’ agitation. Having Compassion at his side during preparation helped ease his anxiety, but only slightly. And none of it was helped by the necessity of staying away from her while they all prepared; Solas knew even his self-control only went so far in regards to Dawn.

It was immediately tested when he saw her dressed for the evening but with the necklace he’d given her still in place if tucked discreetly into the dress. Dawn looked resplendent in a copper coloured dress with gold embroidery and jewels encrusted on it. His eyes dragged along her _very_ exposed throat and shoulders, knowing where he had left possessive marks and yet the Nightingale had succeeded in concealing them. Solas absently wondered what they would do if he went over to her right now and left a new one. But as the dress she was wearing was off the shoulders, it really would have displayed the bruises almost aggressively. He was actually impressed with how well Durgen’len fashion adapted to human proportions.

Dawn’s dress had a high front slit that reached up towards the low plunging top and Solas’ fingers twitched as he wanted to see if there were tiny buttons along the front of where it looked like the dress could open. He was going to enjoy opening such a decadent dress up to frame her beauty before making her scream his name over and over.

Solas had to reclaim control of his thoughts, the jacket of tonight’s attire offering him no concealment for his bodily reaction. It was quickly tamed as he was forced to stand discreetly in the crowds and watch the entire Court paw at her while dancing.

Grand Duke Gaspard du Chalons seemed to want to lose his hand, it’s placement on Dawn’s backside too low to be polite and too firm to be accidental. It was no comfort to know that Ena’vun likely detested the attentions of the Court as much as Solas hated to bear witness to them. Far too many felt comfortable touching her in inappropriate ways and Solas had to focus his anger off the dance floor before someone died to satisfy it.

He couldn’t even go to her when the songs stopped, the Ambassador performing her duties perfectly now. Frustration and worry rode his back like an unwanted cape and Solas could do nothing to ease either. Not until he had her back in his arms.

\--

Celine and Alena would share a dance to start the night, before she was expected to do anything, but after that Dawn was expected on the dance floor from start to finish with very few breaks anticipated. It was an unpleasant thought and she tried to cling onto the happiness her morning had started with. And the amusement she’d felt dripping off of Leliana as the Nightingale had helped her cover the multitude of hickeys Solas had left dotted over her in plain view.

Happiness and amusement were long gone as Dawn danced with Gaspard and Florianne. One was a cretin and the other a murdered, and Dawn could let neither one know what she truly thought of them. Sometimes Solas’ idea of letting the world burn and building from the ashes made sense, at least in regards to certain people. But she survived dancing with the vile siblings, and after that Dawn was danced with, bade farewell, introduced, and then danced with again in an endless cycle. Everyone wanted to try and pump her for information; several had made it clear that they’d like to try and pump her for other purposes too. She was allowed to tell off none of them, that wasn’t part of the Game.

Finally the band halted for a breather and Dawn escaped the floor to gulp down water cleverly served in champagne flutes. Sera had been the brains behind that suggestion, and the erratic archer had found a few trusted types to keep Dawn supplied. And if her eyes scanned the crowd looking for a certain Wolf, no one could really blame her.

“Enjoying your night?” Commander Cullen came to check on her, drawing her focus off of trying to find Solas. The bronze he wore as a Warrior suited him and the gold buttons were a near match for the colour of his eyes, and Dawn knew that the Court was already in love with him. So was a certain Ambassador.

“I’m going to need to bathe in dragon fire after this to ever feel clean again.” Dawn said with a brilliant smile that belied her words.

Cullen’s surprised laugh drew interested glances and he flushed under the added attention. “Maker do I understand that feeling. I’ve never had to wonder whose hand is on my ass quite so frequently.” He confided honestly.

Lady Montilyet swirled closer in a stunning gold dress that knocked the attention span right out of the Commander, and handed Dawn a preselected plate of nibbles. The Ambassador and the Commander were shyly not looking at each other while they tried to stare at the other and Dawn had to keep her commentary to herself. Though the romantic part of her wanted to give them the same happiness she was feeling so after she gave Josephine the rundown of the people she’d danced with, Dawn decided that time she _was_ interfering with events she saw happening. “Lady Montilyet, would you mind giving me a moment to have a word with the Commander, please?” she asked and quickly tugged the surprised Commander away a few steps.

“Is something amiss?” Cullen sounded confused instead of concerned at least.

“Not yet, but I need you to be bold Cullen; go ask Josephine to dance.” She insisted.

“I want to,” his answer didn’t surprise her, “but I don’t want the whole Orlesian Court watching when I do.” He did a good job of concealing the distress his voice expressed.

Dawn blinked for a moment; Josephine and Cullen were both pretty reserved people in the public eye. “Oh Cullen, go ask her to dance; I’ll give you the distraction you need.” He gave her a slightly concerned look at that but to her surprise he then nodded and walked past her to do just that.

When she looked from the Commander out to the crowd to try and find inspiration on what to actually _do,_ her gaze finally found the Dread Wolf that had become so dear. And she realized she could hit two birds with one stone. So she took in a breath and started to sing, *“Sweet love, sweet love. Trapped in your love. I've opened up, unsure I can trust. My heart and I were buried in dust; Free me, free us…”

Ironically being the center of attention likely also made her less at risk for assassination; simply because it was too risky to Stealth target someone with that many eyes watching. Even as good as Alena was, Dawn knew her friend couldn’t work Stealth with people staring at her. And Dawn needed to find out who the conductor was after this because they were brilliant; bringing in musical accompaniment after very little hesitation.

It must have made quite the spectacle; an Offworlder dressed like the Rogues whose clothing was inspired by the Dwarves, singing a song in Common from a world they would never know. Thanks to the careful coils and pins yesterday, today her hair flowed and twisted with curls and waves that Dawn had been informed to leave free flowing, the shadows they cast would help the makeup disguise her marked throat.

And as the song built to the crescendo she couldn’t look away from the Old Wolf’s stare. It was only to keep both of them from making a greater spectacle of themselves that Dawn pulled her gaze away to see Josephine and Cullen kissing as her song finished. She let Cullen and Josie have another moment as the crowds watching applauded before walking through them and towards the Ambassador and the Commander.

Josephine straight up hugged her tightly as they came towards her in turn. “Thank you.” She breathed softly to Dawn in the embrace.

“I’m happy for you.” Dawn whispered back.

“That was quite the distraction, Harbinger.” Cullen teased lightly, his eyes on Josie and a smile stuck on his face.

“Well that was the last trick I had up my sleeve.” Dawn shrugged it off. “Guess I have to go back to dancing with Orlesians now.”

“Yes, well, we are still here in support of the Inquisitor.” Josephine was composed once again.

“The show must go on.” Dawn smiled to take out any implied complaint and followed the Ambassador over to her next dance partner.

The night continued on that vein, a perfectly executed routine that covered all the necessities and where the hardest thing was not sharing a dance with the man now in her bed; at least for most of the night. When the band called the final break, they announced that the next set would be the last and Dawn was too tired to be excited by the chance to rest. Her shoulders and back ached, her thighs were sore, and Dawn was actually certain at least one foot was bleeding. Since training with Iron Bull and Hawke Dawn’s physical endurance was vastly improved, but she still wasn’t prepared for dancing all night in high heels. Add to the fact that the longer she danced the warmer she ended up feeling and Dawn was ready to go drown in a cold bath. The hair on the back of her neck was a disgusting snarl that would take some struggle to undo.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” Dawn politely refocused on her latest dance partner. They’d mumbled something and Dawn was supposed to be paying attention. The masked man was politely leading her out to fresher air on a balcony, something she’d seen more and more people doing after each dancing set.

“I said that you are far more charming than I usually am forced to deal with, and it’s a shame that circumstances aren’t different.” Another pass then, added to the long mental tally.

“I appreciate the compliment, and can only say that circumstances are what they are.” Dawn shrugged, not wanting to soothe another ego after rejection.

“Exactly.” Her dance partner sounded pleased at her answer, and it was only then that Dawn noticed the glint of a dagger in his hand.

The would-be assassin thrust his blade forward, aiming for a vicious gut wound. Half trained instinct had Dawn throwing herself backwards, tucking her legs in when her hip hit the railing to deliberately roll over the edge. It saved her life but dumped Dawn a floor down into manicured flora. Branches snapped under Dawn’s weight, scratching and tearing at her but helping to absorb some of the impact at least.

“Shit!” Dawn cured, knowing that she was unlikely to be heard from anyone inside and scrambling to move before her attacker came after her. ‘COLE!’ Dawn mentally screamed for help even and she heard her not so gracious dance partner scramble down to finish the job.

“Not good.” Dawn whined as she tore free of the hedge and ran as fast as she could to get around a corner or something. Her dress looked stiff and structured but it would do jack shit to stop a blade. Hell, it hadn’t even held up in a fight against unreasonably large thorns. And she had ditched the heels because FUCK THAT. ‘Cole, I need help please!’ she panted for breath even as she bolted around a garden courtyard that was, in all honesty, a hedge maze for some asshole’s pleasure.

When Dawn stumbled into the center of the maze and realized that there was no way out, she knew she had to try and fight. In a fancy dress that provided no protection and while armed with her bare fists. She crouched by the side of the hedge, out of line of sight and waited for him to run in after her. Her goal was to tackle him and try to beat the knife out of his hand before he could skewer her with it. It wasn’t a brilliant plan but adrenaline was doing something ungodly to her higher reasoning, and it wasn’t like she had any better choices available.

The assassin made no noise as he ran into view and Dawn belatedly reacted, missing the change to tackle him to the ground. Her mad scramble left him off balance but the knife in his hand sank into the meat of her side despite her efforts. Dawn cried out in pain and somehow knocked the knife into a bush. With her hand pressing to the wound and no better option, Dawn turned to flee again. She made it a single step before being pulled back sharply by the cord around her neck. Her killer was using the jaw bone necklace from Solas to strangle her since the knife was gone.

Her hands scrambled uselessly at the cord, unable to break it or pull it away. She wanted to gag, a strange sensation of vomit trapped in her throat even as her heart pounded loudly. When a high pitched whine started in her ears, Dawn’s hands scrabbled at his face, gouging her thumb back into his eye.

Her vision had greyed out completely and her chest burned, and she barely felt the pressure around her neck slackening slightly as her killer grunted in pain, flinching away. Dawn collapsed forwards, gagging for air and coughing around the overwhelming pressure in her throat. While her body refused to do anything but try to breathe, the assassin had already recovered, forgoing the necklace and wrapping his hands around her throat. Her nails shredded the skin from his hands and still his grip didn’t slacken and Dawn was barely conscious when blood splattered across one side of her face, a sticky surprise as the assassin was suddenly perforated by the Spirit of Compassion. Her body slumped to the ground, breath wheezing in and curled around the wound in her gut.

“I heard you. You didn’t know where you are so I couldn’t find you.” Cole pressed his hand over the wound in her belly, helping her try and hold the blood where it belonged. Trying to talk hurt and tears were already dripping off of Dawn’s face. “Help is coming. Help is here.” Cole tried to soothe as tears obscured her vision.

\---

“Lots of blood, she’s passed out.” Cole called out as Solas and Iron Bull charged into view.

Solas felt like someone had stolen all of the air from the world, brain refusing to take in what his eyes were seeing. His Ena’vun laying on the grass, deathly pale and bleeding. There was an angry mark around her neck and he realized the cord of the necklace he’d given had to have left it.

Rage danced around him, not visible in the air but so close to being called into existence. He fought it back and focused on what he could do to help. Solas pulled a healing draught from his belt and uncorked it to pour down and over Dawn’s bloody wound even as he sunk to his knees.

“I can smell the Adder’s Kiss from here.” Iron Bull announced a familiar poison. Solas knew it was survivable if treated quickly, but it certainly wouldn’t be make saving Ena’vun any easier.

Solas sneered as he tossed the useless healing draught aside. The poison Bull identified nullified the properties of healing potions specifically to try and increase fatalities. So instead of depending on alchemy, Solas drew on the Fade to heal as much of the damage as possible; he had never been a Healer but he would do everything possible in his Power to save her. Poison in her system meant a much harder struggle to keep Dawn alive, and she would die of blood loss if he did nothing to seal the wound. But first Solas would have to draw all of the poison out of her body.  He tried not to panic as he felt her blood start to congeal under his hands and sweat prickle across his scalp before he was finished.

“She lives.” His voice croaked, opening his eyes as the Inquisitor arrived.

Iron Bull silently fretted in the background while the Inquisitor openly fumed and Cole looked thoroughly blood soaked and lost. Solas knew everyone currently present loved Dawn in their own way and would do everything they could to help her; but since their best had already failed to keep her safe Solas had no confidence in them now.

 “My turn to play distraction. Get her out of here and to the manor. Vivienne’s getting the carriage ready. Try to not let anyone see you. This attempt failed; but the employer won’t know that for sure until tomorrow, buy us time to figure out who that is.” Alena quietly commanded and because Solas desperately wanted to take Dawn away from this place it was easy to accept the decree.

“I’ll carry her so I can monitor her condition, if Iron Bull can act as cover that is?” Solas asked almost archly.

“Let’s get moving.” Bull growled impatiently.

“She’s still fighting, or at least dreams that she is.” Cole whispered into the impending conflict.

It was enough to halt the animosity while they split to get Dawn to safety Solas didn’t care to see what the others were going to do, focus entirely on the woman in his arms. He had wanted her back there but not like this, never like this. Solas felt his jaw ache as Dawn’s blood soaked into his finery.

Madam de Fer was untouched by it all, arranging a carriage for them so smoothly that none seemed aware of the emergency in their midst. It helped that the blood soaked Compassion had vanished and Bull drew so much attention that no one even noticed Solas slipping into the carriage with Dawn in his arms. Even if they had noticed Solas would not have let anything slow them.

“She’s going to have visible bruising tomorrow even once the healing potions start to work.” Vivienne calmly predicted even as she casually wiped some of the blood off of Dawn’s face with the edge of her golden dress.

“Unless you know an alchemical mix to help her that the Adder’s Kiss won’t counteract that kind of commentary is unneeded.” Solas found a target to vent some of his rage at.

“It’s interesting that this attempt on the Harbinger’s life doesn’t seem to have surprised either of you, and yet not all of us were made aware of the possibility.” Vivienne noted instead of providing a useful answer.

“The attempted murder of my wife is not an idle concern.” Solas snarled, not caring for his own indiscretion.

It did, however, succeed in earning surprised looked from both human and Qunari. He didn’t care, his own gaze dropping to her too pale face.

“She lives, despite the closeness of the call. Tomorrow they will likely try again.” Vivienne warned, voice carefully respectful.

“Tomorrow I will show them why trying at all was a devastatingly bad idea.” His Power leaked into the air with his words and he had to haul back on that aspect of himself. No need to alert the mortals just yet.

They had no Healer on site, and so Solas viciously plumbed the depths of his limited knowledge to help Ena’vun. He gladly drained himself dry of mana trying to convince her body to keep living and Dawn remained entirely unaware. Nothing could be said to convince him to leave her side until his own magical and physical exhaustion left him staggering.

“You’re no good to her dead yourself. Meditate, recover, then come back to her.” Bull offered advice and Solas was finally too tired to be angry.

He trusted the anger still in Iron Bull’s eyes, the Qunari as devastated by the attack on Dawn as Solas was. They may hate each other but both men loved the woman they’d nearly lost tonight; Iron Bull would not allow anything else to happen to Dawn either. Compassion waited for him at the door, a silent support as well. It wasn’t enough but it was all Solas had available. He had to recover if he wanted to help her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:  
> Falon’saota: husband, wife, bondmate.  
> Aravemah masreun Lit; I am about to taste female orgasm, I am using it to mean I will taste your pleasure.  
> Mav’in mathamah I smashed Ma av’in matha ma mah all together to try and translate: My mouth will have to satisfy you later
> 
> *Song is Bound to You by Christina Aguilera


	3. All Faded New for Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final night of Halamshiral COULD have been. Dawn gets a confrontation, and there is going to be some lingering aftereffects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This final chapter is SO NON CANON in all the right places to make you hate me. *  
> Also no editing so sorry.

Time, sleep, and eventually healing draughts all helped gently battering ram Dawn back onto the road of health. She was at least well enough to be adamant that she would attend the final night though she was getting the resistance she expected to face for that plan.

  
“Ena’vun please,” Solas looked like he didn’t even know what it was he needed to beg her to do. He was trying to look stoic and controlled and Dawn didn’t believe it for a minute. “I only just….” He cut himself off, the anger burning in his eyes a call back to the part of him that had earned the name Dread. His fingers stroked her cheek gently. “I don’t know what I would do, what I would become, if I lost you.” His admission was quiet and staggering.

  
He curled over to rest his head to her chest, her hand still held in his so he could monitor her health. Dawn lifted her free hand carefully, body still anticipating pain from the wound that potions had finally successfully sealed, and ran her hand over his slightly prickly scalp. So the baldness was an affectation. “The actions of your past made you how you are, but your choices in the moment make you who you are. I have seen greatness in you Solas, along with terrifying depths; you are both your best and worst self at all times. We all are. I want to believe that even without me standing there watching you would be great instead of terrible.”

  
Solas turned his head, ear to heartbeat and eyes to hers. The blue wash of Power that she was beginning to recognize meant very high emotions in Solas was there. “You would believe that of me even after everything you know I have done, and was willing to do?” he demanded, no anger left to him now.

  
“Everyone is allowed to realize their mistakes and try to be better. You’ve shown me with your actions throughout the last year that you ARE better. Solas, you are not your mistakes.” She distantly remembered Cole insisting that Dawn wasn’t her pain, what felt like a lifetime ago.

  
Solas stared at her now and Dawn didn’t understand everything she was seeing on his face, there was just too much emotion. And then he smiled at her, “you are hope after despair has done its worst; a light where all memory of brightness has been lost. You are the rising sun and those of us that are shadows are drawn to you.” Her hand had stilled, resting against the back of his skull gently and Solas hadn’t moved from resting over her heart. “Ar lath ma Ena’vun.” After the poetic words his simple confession of love felt entirely honest and painfully vulnerable.

  
“You didn’t even know I wanted you until two days ago Solas.” Dawn felt her cheeks redden again, unused to thinking about the emotions driving her and those around her so much as accepting that they were there and working around them. To have Solas come out and say it was unexpected.

  
Now he smiled at her, the spark in his eyes not even close to anger but still making her heart beat harder. “Ena’vun, I did not know you reciprocated the desire I felt for you, not until that night. But that does not mean it wasn’t already there.”

  
And now her cheeks were undeniably red. She’d been ignoring the attraction because she’d assumed Solas being a Lavellan only Love Interest had put him strictly off-limits; he’d been ignoring it out of respect for her. They were both idiots. “So basically the entire Orlesian Court was right; that dance had to mean something between us.” She fell back on humour to help handle her emotions.

  
“I’ve been alive a very long time and yet I have found that in the year I’ve been sharing my world with you Ena’vun, that I have learned the most important lessons. When you asked me to dance with you…you’ve given the chance to examine the things I miss, that hurt me with their loss and now I cannot wait to bring the things worth saving forward to share with you.” He insisted and she couldn’t help but smile at the enthusiasm.

  
“And that, Old Wolf, is why I know you’ve grown from who you once were.” She pointed out and he blinked in surprise.  
His head came up off her chest a soft, stunned look on his face. “You have such faith in me and I haven’t earned it.” He shook his head sadly.

  
“My throat hurts too much for me to properly tell you how stupid that sentence was.” Dawn smiled as she said it to soften the rudeness, “So instead I’m going to tell you to shut up and climb into this bed to hold me because I almost died and we both need the cuddle.”

  
Solas finally released her hand but only so that he could swiftly, and carefully, climb into the bed next to her. Although they were the same height, it felt like no effort at all for Solas to wrap himself around her protectively. “I don’t want you going back out there tonight, being at risk again.” He admitted quietly, breath gentle against her shoulder.

  
“But I’m going because I know I need to. Their assassin just vanished last night; tonight Alena will crush the last of their plans. And by the end of it all, the Inquisition comes out looking completely untouched. I can think of no better way to play the Game to win, can you?” she challenged lightly. When he remained silent she knew she’d at least won that part of the discussion. “The one provision the Advisors insisted on was that I always have at least one Inquisition Warrior or Rogue with me at all times, and a mage capable of barrier in eyesight.” Dawn’s voice was getting hoarser, this much talking unpleasant despite multiple rounds of healing.

  
“I will be the mage watching over you Ena’vun.” He immediately insisted, hands gentle on her despite the intensity in his tone.  
“Right up until you have to play your part in the plans Solas.” She nodded. “I won’t be taking stupid risks, and I won’t be going anywhere without at least one person I know with me, but Alena’s plans have been set up for you to be at her side tonight. I couldn’t stand it if we failed because I was too afraid.”

  
The sigh Solas let out was mostly silent but since it was against her skin she felt it anyways, and it made her smile. “You are not the only one that is afraid, Ena’vun. I do not cherish the thought of trusting you to those that have already failed to keep you safe.”

  
Despite the literal pain in her neck, Dawn lifted her head so she could kiss his brow. “Don’t let the bastards see that they’ve gotten to me, I will not let them see me be afraid. I will not let them make me cower. I am stronger than that. You are stronger than that.”

  
His arms tightened around her and he brought his mouth to hers. Solas kissed her slow and gentle, taking his time until Dawn forgot to think about anything but the feel of his lips and tongue. Her cheeks were flushed and despite the lingering ache in her throat the rest of her body was wholly on board with continuing, but Solas simply settled back to cuddling with her after he ended the kiss.

  
“Rest until the last minute then Ena’vun; please. Do an Old Wolf a favour and spare my nerves.” Solas actually pleaded and Dawn relented.

  
She was tired, though more a pervasive fatigue than acute exhaustion by this point. Adrenaline had whomped her system but all the forced healing had left her body keyed up and anxious. She was also vacillating between anger and terror and apathy over nearly dying last night; she wanted to lash out at those that had tried to hurt her, she wanted to hide and never give them the chance to try again, and she wanted to march into the last night of the party as if to say ‘you tried your best and it failed’. Dawn wasn’t sure which of those impulses was going to win.

  
As the time to start getting ready drew nearer, Dawn felt Solas stir back into movement. “Ena’vun…” he hesitated and she waited him out with an expectant look, “I want to place magic on you to help keep you safe tonight. Old magic.” He was carefully broaching the topic and that worried her more than him dipping into the past for magical inspiration.  
“How so?” she trusted that he wouldn’t hurt her, but Dawn also knew that Solas was the kind of man to take action believing his plan was for the best only for things to turn terribly wrong on him.

  
“Some of the magic is already in place,” he admitted and Dawn’s eyebrows jumped upwards, “I painted glyphs onto your skin already and I would build more magic on top of that foundation.”

  
Dawn was frowning, trying to recall when he had painted anything on her skin. And then her cheeks burned hotly red as she realized that painted was a euphemism. “Ah… did not know that was an option.”

  
He seemed ready for anger and looked shocked when Dawn started to giggle instead; sadly laughing hurt. Hawke complains in a bit of banter to Varric that she’s sick of only blood mages; apparently Solas was a spunk mage. “Other than delivery method, how is it different than Barrier?” she finally focused.

  
“It’s a much older magic, drawing on nature instead of the Fade.” He explained. “Our first night I…protection and finding are already on you but they were not strong enough to keep you safe yesterday.”

  
His magic and Iron Bull’s training and Leliana’s warning all hadn’t been enough to keep her safe yesterday; the fault was not on him alone. “Solas, sometimes we can do our very best and still find it comes up short.” She said it to him but tried to believe it for herself. She should have been better yesterday, should have been ready. “But telling me I have protection and finding on me doesn’t tell me what that means. What magic have you placed on my body without telling me?” she wasn’t angry at him for that yet, though once her throat stopped hurting they were going to have a conversation about it in more depth.

  
“First was protection, to keep your body from taking too much damage if I had lost restraint during love making.” He admitted without conceit, he wouldn’t have tried to hurt her but he had been afraid of it anyways. Considering the bruises she’d had from their copulation it made sense, though it occurred to her she was going to have to explain to him about her enjoyment of rough sex.

  
“What was the finding?” she focused on the topic again.

  
“It’s a passive mark that I could find if you were taking from me.” His voice was soft and low.

  
“You put a way to track me onto my skin?” now there was anger despite her sore throat.

  
“I put magic I could track onto you. You I cannot track, only the glyph I painted and it is fading already. It is how I found you in time yesterday.” His admission dumped a bucket of ice on her anger. If he hadn’t technically violated her personal privacy, she’d have died. That still didn’t make it right but it made it hard to convince him of the fact.

  
“Solas… I admit that I am glad to be alive, but it’s not right that you put that on me without asking me first.” Dawn was going to try anyways. “I cannot use magic to track you, so this kind of thing makes the relationship between us uneven. I can love you until the sun burns out of the sky, but if this isn’t a partnership then it’s not happening at all. I will not be with someone who holds power over me; I want a partner not a master.”

  
And he looked absolutely stunned at her words, as if the disparity had simple never occurred to him. He’d lived and loved in a world that had been saturated with magic, it probably HADN’T occurred to him now in a world that was limited by the Veil. As he’d said, all his past lovers had been his People and that was from the time before the Veil; Elvhen were naturally magical. She was not.

  
“The glyph is tied to the limited Power in my seed; it will fade before the end of tomorrow.” He informed honestly. “I was hoping to settle protection on you in a stronger fashion.”

  
Her brain definitely took that in a dirty way. “How would you settle it on me in a stronger fashion?”

  
Solas hesitated again and Dawn wondered just how bad his suggestion was going to sound to her. But instead of saying anything, he sighed and dug a hand into the pouch at his waist. He pulled out a simple looking wooden ring. “A long time ago the people under my protection wore these; a symbol of the rebellion standing against the evils we saw in the world.” And Dawn realized it was a sylvanwood ring, Cedric wore one still. “It has since then come to represent my greatest failures to the Elvhen people, but I would reclaim it. This one has been enchanted with protections though like all magic now it is limited, even with my best efforts it can only reduce the damage done, not protect you completely.”

  
It was not the first time Dawn had had a man offer her a ring with symbolic reasoning, but the circumstances were wildly different. She still needed to take a moment to let her mind settle on the idea of it though; she was an entirely different person than she had been when she’d taken the last ring off and even if this wasn’t that kind of symbol, Dawn was still certain it wasn’t an empty gesture. Everything Solas did had layers of meaning, she knew that better than anyone else.  
“What will it do once I put it on?” Dawn asked, letting him place the simple looking ring on her palm. It felt strange to have this conversation with him still cuddled around her instead of facing her straight on, but Dawn needed the physical affection more than she needed the sense of confrontation.

  
“Nothing; it is just a ring. But even without magic of your own it’ll raise a barrier over you if there is a threat to your life.” He explained and she believed him. “The rest of the magic in the ring is only intended to decrease the likelihood of a ranged attack targeting you, but sadly my magic cannot eliminate the danger completely. I would have to be with you to defend you at that point.”

  
“Like rolling a natural 20 for defense.” Dawn nodded even if she knew she’d confused him with her reference. “This would buy me time to either defend myself or let help find me.” She looked at him to confirm and he did with a solemn nod.

  
She picked the ring off her palm and looked at it carefully, seeing that although it was just wood, there were intricate designs carved into it; barely discernable. “When did you have time to create this?” she wondered, impressed at the skill this required.

  
“It is…I wore that ring as a young man; a symbol of my defiance at the world that wanted to claim me as kindred.” He admitted and Dawn stared at him in surprise. He smiled in response, taking the ring from her to slide it onto her finger properly. “When I first woke in this version of the world, that ring was all I had binding me to the past; the only power left to me until I rebuilt myself. I am hoping it keeps you safe now as is had me for the Ages.”

  
Dawn stared at the ring around her index finger and then back at Solas’ almost vulnerable stare. “I’d be an idiot to turn down such protections, especially after the poor show I put on yesterday.” Her humour fell flat and she tried again. “Thank you Solas.” She kept it simple and kissed him.

  
And likely driven by the desperation her near death had caused, Solas kissed her back as if to pick up where they left off the previous morning. His body made no move to follow through but despite her injuries Dawn felt arousal thrum through her in expectation. Solas definitely knew how to kiss.

  
But before they could get carried away this time there was a knock at the door. “Lady Dawn, it’s Josephine.” The Ambassador’s voice called through politely.

  
“I dislike how frequently the Advisors are interrupting us.” Solas growled out, glaring towards the door. He might not have pressed for more than kisses but Dawn could see his straining excitement.

  
“That’s the advantage of having more time,” Dawn smiled and drew his attention off the door, “this isn’t your last chance to kiss me. I have the protections you can give me, and tonight will be a very different night than yesterday.” She insisted. “Trust that I will do everything I can to stay alive, because I will.”

  
“And trust that I will do everything I can to ensure that as well.” Solas countered firmly.

  
“Go get the door Old Wolf, we have a Court to get ready to face.” Dawn accepted his concerns for her without remarking on them further.

  
Josephine came in, face showing no surprise to see Solas only just leaving; Leliana likely had already shared her juicy gossip about overhearing them in bed together. It was mortifying but Dawn refused to act embarrassed about it. “Your attire had to be altered to help cover the bruising, but it’s not as significant an alteration as you may expect. Your top should help conceal your wounds and still work with the entire assembly.” The Ambassador tried to soothe. Makeup had been enough for a few hickeys yesterday but this morning Dawn had a dark, angry line around her throat and a clear imprint of the assassin’s hands bruised into her neck too; makeup alone would not be enough.

  
“I’m not worried about it Josie, but if you feel you need to do something to pick up my mood I would love to see you dance with Commander Cullen again tonight.” Dawn shamelessly blackmailed, wanting to focus on something good for tonight.

  
“Again?” Josephine almost stumbled, clearly not expecting this tactic from Dawn.

  
“Yes, but I won’t be able to sing as a distraction this time.” She hesitated but plunged forwards, “Having your little sister and the Orlesian Court see you dancing with the Commander will only help you; I know about the betrothal your parents are trying to arrange for you, but if they know about you and Cullen….” Dawn smiled and gave a shrug. “No one can argue about a match up with the Commander; especially not with the way you two look at each other.” Dawn confirmed smugly.

  
“Truly?” she sounded so hopeful that it reminded Dawn that Josephine was just a lovely person no matter what the world threw at them.

  
“Yes, but you two should talk to each other about what you want first.” Dawn kept her advice simple, not wanting to give away secrets that weren’t hers to give.

  
“I’ll keep what you’ve said in mind, thank you.” Josephine inclined her head. “Now, I shall assist you into your attire for the evening.”

  
The bruising on her neck was disguised by a soft collar of soft sanguine fabric; and for a moment when Dawn put it on she worried that the static would return. Her breathing went a little shallow to have something wrapped around her throat again, but there was not pressure, no squeezing pain and after a moment her breathing settled. The collar had strips attached to it that latticed across and under her bust; revealing tantalizing glimpses of skin but not outright exposing her chest. Her face, arms, and midriff were marked up with human safe vitaar in the red, white and black markings that decorated all of the Inquisition, and she wore Qunari typical pants dyed two shades darker than her top. Rounding out the look were two tight, perfectly proportioned Dutch braids down her back. It wasn’t a huge shift from the original design, so Dawn still felt comfortable in the outfit.

  
“I look like a dominatrix.” Dawn smirked as she said it.

  
“I’m glad you like it.” Leliana purred and slinked into the room. “We were ready for much more dire things than a simple wardrobe change.” The Bard lightly informed, watching Dawn intensely.

  
“So who are my shadows tonight?” Dawn side stepped the matter of trying to thank the Nightingale; if the Bard hadn’t been all but terrorizing Dawn for training on the way to Halamshiral she would never have survived last night. Even if Dawn had failed to learn all of her lessons properly.

  
“Iron Bull is your primary companion tonight, with Solas providing magic support. The real events start after we have you with the Inquisitor for a dance, and then with Blackwall. You’ll be protected by Cassandra and Dorian, and then back to Bull.” Leliana seemed far too pleased with the pronouncement, but Dawn didn’t argue. Knowing that Iron Bull was watching her back helped make her feel safer, he’d managed to thwart his own assassination multiple times.

  
“I feel all warm and tingly.” Dawn lightly joked to cover her bout of nerves. “At least I haven’t completely embarrassed the Inquisition yet.”

  
“You’re doing fine,” Leliana’s accent made her words sound more conspiratorial, “much better than Siobhan and Alistair did their first year in court.”

  
“Your definition of fine is interesting.” Dawn couldn’t help but point out while Josephine made disagreeable noises in her defense. “Even with a heads up I failed to spot my assassin before he’d already pulled a knife on me.”

  
“When it was Siobhan and Alistair that got secretly married, they announced it to the world after defeating the Archdemon just so that no one would argue with them about the King marrying a mage.” Leliana pointed out with laughter dancing in her tone.

  
Dawn wondered at the Bard’s wording but couldn’t help but smile at how they’d thwarted the rules of the game. “Having seen different versions of Alistair or others as Monarch, I can tell you that that’s still not the worst I’ve heard of.” Dawn decided to be honest.

  
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Leliana grinned, an honest to god full toothy smile without any hidden violence in it. She looked a decade younger and painfully beautiful.

  
“I sincerely hope that none of us have to go through what the King and Queen of Ferelden had to endure.” Josephine turned it more solemn again.

  
“I don’t know Josie; some of what we went through wasn’t so bad.” Leliana kept it vague.

  
Dawn realized that they were trying to help her feel more normal, more settled. The casual conversation, the easy back and forth between friends was all real, but also all designed to help her regain confidence for today. She was obscenely grateful to them for it.“If my world story wasn’t wrong about it, I remember there being quite a few moments where it was a lot more than not so bad.” Dawn winked at the Nightingale suggestively.

  
“Tell no one.” Leliana warned but the warmth of laughter in her voice gave away her amusement.

  
“But Leli, then no one will know that side of you. And it’s quite the side to see.” Dawn teased with a wink as she opened the door, feeling more confident. Yes she’d almost died, but she hadn’t. She would not live in fear.

  
It was a good decision to come to because Iron Bull stood outside the room waiting for them. “Red, Ruffles, I need to steal Dawn for a moment.” He offered with an apologetic smile.

  
To Dawn’s everlasting surprise Josephine and Leliana both looked uncomfortable in their own ways. It was Josephine that finally spoke up. “One sign of tears or one hair out of place, and you will deal with me.” The tiny Antivan Ambassador warned.

“Yes Ma’am.” Iron Bull treated her with the same deference he did Madam de Fer.

Dawn tried not to let her unease show on her face, but she knew he picked it up anyhow. Damn ex-Ben Hassrath. It didn’t help when he scanned her outfit with a critical eye. “Alena’s idea, she consulted with the Valo-Kas for help.” Dawn babbled nervously. This was the first time she was really getting to talk to Iron Bull since sleeping with Solas and to say it was uncomfortable was an understatement. Not that she and Iron Bull had ever been anything more than friends but Dawn knew she had thought they were going there at one point of time. Halamshiral has been nothing but surprises for her.

  
“It suits you.” Iron Bull’s voice grumbled. “The whole thing is a nice touch; the entire Inquisition wore non-human inspired clothes at the Winter Palace. It’s a subtle sort of ‘fuck you’.” He mused and it helped Dawn calm down a little.

  
She knew how to talk to him as a friend, had considered herself good friends with him before the whole Demands of the Qun fiasco, but now she felt utterly adrift. If he wanted to talk like they used to it would make tonight easier but she had no idea how to reply now. He didn’t seem disappointed or judgemental and she knew he had to have heard about it by now. The Inquisition was full of people with the habits of spies and he had been one of the best; he had to know.

  
Iron Bull sighed, likely figuring out her discomfort and its reasoning. Dawn couldn’t help but brace for a very uncomfortable conversation. She underestimated him. “I owe you an apology Little Bas; you’ve acted in my best interest and I know I can trust you. It was wrong for me to come at you with the intent to push you to failure, and I should never have done any of that while angry. You got hurt because of my loss of control and I am sorry that ever happened.” He didn’t sugar coat his actions or motivations. “You almost died yesterday before getting the apology I absolutely owed to you, and I would have been pissed at myself for not telling you that in time. I’m not Hissrad; I don’t have to deal in lies and betrayal anymore and I don’t want to.”

  
Dawn just stared up at him for a moment and he bore her scrutiny without word. She had been expecting some kind of condemnation for being with Solas, maybe a few remarks about her not being capable of defending herself despite training; instead he simply apologies for the things he had done wrong. She didn’t resist the urge to throw herself at him like she did during the mirror fiasco and he took a surprised step back but hugged her tightly in return.

  
“You are forgiven.” She spoke quietly but with conviction.

  
“That easy?” he seemed surprised as he set her down again.

  
Now she felt a real smile, “Iron Bull, nothing is ever that easy. But I almost died yesterday, and we’re at a party. I will be demanding dances and I expect I’ll get my pound of sweat from you; that’ll be more than enough to make me satisfied.” She grabbed onto the happy with both hands and held it in a death grip. Humour was her battered shield at this point in time but it was still better than nothing. Or embracing the fear.

  
Now Bull grinned down at her. “That’ll scandalize the Orlesian Court.” He teased.

  
“Do you see how many fucks I give?” She shot putting on airs of badassery. He laughed but didn’t try to answer, seeming content to walk with her in comfortable silence. She made it another step before her brain clued in to a little detail and then Dawn was trying not to laugh as she kept looking at the vitaar painted onto him. “Iron Bull… umm… I’ve never seen you wearing vitaar like that in battle before.” She had to say something even though she wanted to avoid certain topics with him for a while longer.

  
“Well stated, I don’t wear this vitaar for battle.” He grinned, not actually saying out loud that this was his sex vitaar. “I knew none of these assholes would get the joke.” He jerked his chin at the ostentatious buildings around them.

  
“You’re all but standing there with your cock out.” Dawn managed to say with a mostly straight face but Bull guffawed at her words and made her grin.

  
“Little Bas are you aware of what your own vitaar represents?” he asked, flicking a finger against the Vitaar painted on her chin. Her alarm as she realized she didn’t must have shown in her eyes even if she refused to ask him what they meant because he smirked but stayed silent.

  
It was enough to distract her for the rest of the walk to the others but once there she couldn’t help but notice how many people were giving them curious, concerned looks as they arrived; her personal life had become far too public all of a sudden. Solas was watching her intensely and the moment he caught her eye he came towards her and the tension in the room skyrocketed.

  
Cullen, bless his oblivious heart, interrupted the possible catastrophe by arriving to assign carriages for the night. “Iron Bull, as the Harbinger’s designated escort for the night you are to ride in with her, Madam de Fer as mage support, and Varric.”  
Dawn could see Solas open his mouth to argue, but Cullen continued speaking without looking up from the report in his hand. “The Inquisitor will be riding in with Lady Montilyet, Blackwall, and Dorian. Cassandra, Sera, and Solas will be conferring with Leliana; she requires your input on a slight change to the plans.” Cullen announced with a note of finality, and the expression in his face as he looked up clearly stated he expected no argument.

  
“Commander…” Solas still spoke up, likely to protest not being in Dawn’s carriage.

  
“Solas, you’re riding in with the Nightingale, if you want to argue take it up with her. Let’s move Inquisition.” Alena interrupted the fight and Dawn saw Solas narrow his eyes at the command she gave him. But he didn’t argue.

  
Instead he turned to look at Dawn, eyes dropped to the hand with the sylvanwood ring on it. “I’ll see you in there Old Wolf.” she tried to comfort.

  
With everyone surreptitiously watching them she wasn’t sure what he was going to do; Solas wasn’t as predictable as she had once believed. Or maybe it was just that he had changed that much from who he had been. His own hand came up to cup her cheek gently, careful not to smear the Vitaar painted in place and she smiled, turning to place a kiss in his palm. Without ever actually saying anything, he smiled slightly and then obeyed the Inquisitor’s instructions.

  
It made Dawn’s own carriage ride in slightly awkward to say the least. No one was saying anything, not even Varric, and that was more disquieting than being asked about it would have been. She ended up spending the tense carriage ride in trying to distract herself with the details of her companions’ outfits. Like Iron Bull, Varric had opted for no shirt with his black and red accented attire. That much chest hair unleashed was a lot to handle but she wasn’t at all surprised to find that Varric was solidly barrel chested. Madam de Fer bared as much skin as Dawn did, although Vivienne wore her customary white with the cut and red accents of her attire in-line with the Tal Vashoth styling. And paired with the skin tight pants and towering heeled boots the Court Enchanter preferred she gleamed dangerously, with accenting streaks painted over her skin. She also showed no sign of having been one of the three to watch over Dawn on the carriage ride out yesterday.

  
The final night of Halamshiral started with the Inquisition arriving dressed like a conquering Hoard, and a part of Dawn worried that the Warriors were all in bloody red tonight. She’d had enough violence yesterday to last until Adamant, but the only thing missing from the assembly right now was their weapons. Apparently those were all discreetly hidden away. Considering that they were literally here to kick ass and take names, the attire suited the mood, it still left Dawn feeling slightly short of breath.

  
They arrived and spilled out of the carriages, whatever new plans that had required Solas to ride in apparently enough that he was still held at the Nightingale’s side as they collected to enter in mass. Dawn didn’t see anger or concern as he bent his head to listen to the counsel of the Spymaster, but Dawn could see him looking over to assure that Dawn was alright.

  
“No one stand between me and the first stiff drink I come across.” Dawn warned her friends, desperately trying to ignore her nerves. She’d nearly died in the gardens last night and here she was coming back for round two and despite insisting that she was ready for this she felt anything but.

  
“Try the pink stuff, it’s delicious.” Iron Bull commiserated with a smirk. No one needed to remind them to stay on top of their game tonight, light banter was softly susurrating from several members.

  
Dawn struggled to control her ragged breathing, the collar of her top around her neck light enough that she barely felt it and yet still enough of a constraint to leave her uneasy. But she was determined to go forward, so all she could do was breathe through it every time she felt like freezing up. She wasn’t going to let the Inquisition or herself down again. Iron Bull’s hand rested against the small of her back for a moment, helping her take that first step forward like he had done during the mirror training. After that every step was easier; she was as safe as her friends could make her, as safe as the Dread Wolf could make her, and she wasn’t someone who could just hide away anyways.

  
As Harbinger Dawn was supposed to let no sign of the impending chaos show on her face, not a skill that was natural to her but being bait again was a lot less scary with Iron Bull her literal bodyguard. A near seven foot tall, muscled Tal Vashoth that was brimming with sass and casual aggression went a long way to settle her nerves. The fact that so far the assassins that had come after him were all very dead helped as well.

  
“No one will get close to you tonight unless you want them to.” Alena softly offered a low voiced comfort as they were once again presented to the Court.

  
“I just want to dance with my friends tonight. And not get stabbed again.” Dawn admitted with a deprecating laugh.

  
“Welcome to the Game Dawn.” Alena smiled as she said it.

  
“Next time there better be party hats.” Dawn grumbled back as her friend swirled off to be the Inquisitor and Solas finally made his way towards her.

He didn't touch her as she half expected, arms carefully tucked behind his back. "The best way I can keep you safe tonight, Ena'vun is for you to confirm and deny nothing. Once again." Ah, so the military stance was self discipline then instead of anger. 

"Looks like you're going to have to keep hold of your temper tonight Chuckles." Varric teased and Solas gave him a flat look. Dawn was missing something but didn't want to ask what in such an open location. She'd get the story out of her Wolf later.

"Worse things have been asked of me. Sometimes I even oblige." She joked to try and lift the mood.

"These stories are going to get a lot more fun now." Varric drawled. Dawn just stole a move from Cassandra and rolled her eyes.

   
It was interesting for Dawn to watch the differences in the Court compared to their first night here. Upon arrival they’d been watched suspiciously and held in low esteem. But over the last two days, somehow the Inquisition established itself as a primary player of the Game. The Court now looked to them. The Inquisition had been slowly introduced in batches on the first evening, but now no one dared stop them from coming in as a unified whole. It helped to put a little bounce into her step despite the previous night’s end; for once in her life Dawn was part of the cool kids’ group.

  
“You got a handle on this Sweetheart?” Varric sidled up next to her, a teasing smirk on his face.

  
“Chin up, shoulders back, walking with a swagger.” Dawn repeated her internal instructions with a wink down at Varric even as the Court reacted to their outlandish attire.

  
Not all the men were topless, Solas and several others had opted for a vest like top that made Dawn think more steampunk, ano she definitely wasn’t complaining. Everyone looked damn good. Dawn’s bared stomach was a running theme for many others as well; Vivienne looked flawless as always in her favoured colour, and Cassandra was intimidating as hell her Warrior’s red with those abs. Sera had opted in for a vest and even Cole was decked out to be on display tonight. And if Dawn wasn’t wrong, Cullen and Josephine were a lot less worried about people seeing them standing that closely together tonight, his Warrior’s red standing stark next to Josephine’s pristinely untouched white.

  
“You did good yesterday, getting those two together.” Varric commented in a low voice.

  
“I’m glad. It’s nice that this exists, it wasn't part of my world story.” She answered honestly.

  
“I'm betting it's not the only thing that didn't exist in your world story that's come out of this trip." He carefully kept his words vague but Dawn caught his meaning and flushed deeply. “I will never judge you for the person you love Sweetheart, I just want to make sure you're happy.” Varric nodded, shooting another look at their companions before up at her again. “And if anyone give you shit I'll shoot them in the kneecap.”

  
Dawn grinned even as she flushed a furious red. “Thank you Varric, but I'm not supposed to confirm or deny anything right now remember?" She teased.

  
Varric gave her an amused look. “You're doing better than he is.”

  
Dawn didn’t mean to sound so exasperated but it slipped out. “I didn't have to watch him almost die last night, I suspect that might have something to do with it. You should understand that better than most after the Arishok." She dropped her voice low, barely moving her mouth to whisper but she knew Varric heard her because he stopped dead in his tracks. She felt guilty about it immediately, it was a mean way to do that and she stopped to step to his side. "I'm sorry that was..."

"No, you're right. I might not be married but it was exactly that. I'm sorry." Varric apologized without hesitation at least.

"I'm not the one you're taking digs at Sugar." She nudged his shoulder with her hip. 

Varric laughed and left her side as Solas approached, her bodyguards having slightly overlapping schedules it seemed. 

“Thank you Ena’vun.” Solas’ voice brought a smile as Dawn saw him still standing carefully out of reach.

Dawn gave a one sided shrug, a little awkward with an audience around. "I still feel like an ass." She admitted, not liking how quite she was to lash out. Ignoring her anxiety was letting her function but didn't make it diminish one iota.

He inclined his head to her but then focused his attention over her shoulder onto Iron Bull behind her. “Did you wish to continue the match Iron Bull?" Solas queried, an arrogant tone that Dawn didn't expect to hear; chess match only started in the Hissing Wastes? Solas continued, "After careful consideration; knight to D5.”

  
“Arishok takes pawn at B2.” Iron Bull seemed to carefully answer but Dawn knew the outcome of the game already. But there was a nasty undertone starting to develop here and she didn't know why. In the game the banter was Solas being a little shit but this was something else.

Solas smirked as if he could read Dawn’s thoughts. “Mage to D6.”

“Arishok takes tower; check. What are you doing Solas?” Iron Bull demanded suspiciously.

“King’s Gambit.” Dawn didn’t even hesitate to interrupt the banter and had both their absolute attentions. “It’s what I remember my world story calling the maneuvers you’re using.”

  
“So you know how this match is played?” Solas sounded intensely pleased before knowing her answer.

  
“I know what King falls, I can’t remember the moves.” She corrected as he studied her expression.

  
“King to E2.” Solas finally looked from Dawn back to the ominously silent Iron Bull.

  
When Iron Bull remained quiet, Dawn turned to face him. He wasn’t looking at Solas but down at her and Dawn could only shrug. She didn't know what this was about, she didn't like it but they're both fucking adults; it was up to him to decide. “Alright. Tamassran takes tower.” It was only then that he looked away from Dawn, “Your last tower, by the way.”

  
“Pawn to E5.” Solas didn’t sound worried despite Iron Bull’s warning.

  
“Really? I’ve got my whole army bearing down on your King and you’re moving a pawn?” Iron Bull sounded flatly lost by the maneuver from a player as skilled as Dawn knew Solas was.

  
“Never underestimate the power of even a single piece Iron Bull, hasn’t the Inquisitor taught you that?” Dawn interrupted on purpose, not trying to make her tone joking. She remembered how the game ended, and how fandom considered what the ending meant for both Iron Bull and Solas. “No one wins, regardless of what King falls. What is the cost of victory?” she tried immensely hard to not look at either one as they stared at her.

And despite their earlier missteps with each other Varric came in to rescue her now. “Come on Sweetheart, let’s dance.” He grabbed her hand and led her away. “What did you say? I’ve never seen them both look so perturbed before.” He demanded and spun her around gracefully, leading even with the height differences. Or at least trying to; Dawn had a bad habit of taking the lead with everyone. Solas had been amused the first time he realized it, Josephine had been mortified.

  
“I…I need a drink.” Dawn whined instead of answering him directly.

  
Varric laughed even as he let her lead the dance. “Now that’s a plan I can get behind. If we go up the stairs on the far side we can get at least one in before the kill joys get to us.”

  
Varric’s easy charm failed to help her relax again as they followed the only newly learned choreography. She never really forgot all the eyes watching her now; they were dressed to strangely and acted too outrageously for anyone to ignore them,  it was hard not to think about how any one of the eyes could belong to an assassin waiting for her to make another mistake. Thankfully Varric ignored whatever hypervigilance Dawn displayed and when the song ended he pulled her up the far side stairs, away from the Warrior and Mage watching in consternation. He had some prearranged signal worked out with Sera because she met them with a pair of drinks that weren’t cleverly disguised water, and a wink.

  
Iron Bull made it to them before Dawn got her drink finished but Solas cheated by Fade Stepping right to her side almost immediately. Dawn looked at Varric and they both started to laugh. “What happened to sparing an Old Wolf’s nerves Ena’vun?” Solas chided, hands once again laced behind his back.

  
“I still obeyed the rules, I’m not apologizing.” Dawn shook her head and finished her drink.

  
“How was this not flouting the rules?” Iron Bull called her out but he sounded amused.

  
“I’m supposed to have either a Warrior or Rogue with me, and a Mage capable of barrier within eye line. Did I violate any of that?” she demanded of the trio guarding her, knowing that they were worried about her continuing health. They had reason to be, two of her current guardians had to drag her all but lifeless body out of here last night. But Dawn could not give in to the fear, she would not let them smother her freedom, not even for love. 

  
“It helps if you have all of us at once Ena’vun.” Solas continued to lecture but Dawn’s brain jumped right into the deep end of the gutter at her lovers' words.

  
“I would need a couple more drinks before being brave enough to request that.” Dawn flippantly replied in English, owing it to herself to say it.

  
“No fair, I can hear the sarcasm but I just can’t tell what you’re saying.” Varric cried foul on her even as he passed her a second drink.

  
Dawn couldn’t help it, she laughed. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that she was going to translate that, not where either Solas or Iron Bull could hear her at least. Things were awkward enough as it was. Solas’ impatient frustration and Iron Bull’s wry amusement only made her laugh harder too. “Never going to happen.” She denied Varric’s implied request.

  
“That's probably for the best Sweetheart.” Varric nodded in agreement, clinking glasses with her.

  
Solas and Iron Bull settled nearby, trying to not obviously be her body guards but still staying close enough to be effective if they had to be. Varric just stood with her, chatting as if this were a typical Tuesday to him. Dawn knew that the Court watched her out of the corners of their eyes, expecting another spectacle from her at any moment. But singing, dancing, and surviving her own assassination were all the tricks Dawn had, she just wanted to have a good time with her friends while they saved the world.

  
“How are you holding up Little Bas?” Iron Bull asked, interrupting a vital conversation between Dawn and Varric about Nugs versus Raccoons to hand her one of those pink drinks he’d mentioned earlier.

  
“Cheers,” she drained the drink in a thirst quenching chug. Iron Bull just looked amused and traded her glasses, letting her have his still mostly full one. “I’m hoping you got whatever that pissing match was about resolved?" Her tone was lost sounding, and Iron Bull's eye went wide. 

"You don't know." His tone sounded flatly disbelieving and then his face went neutral. 

"I don't know what?" She demanded flatly.

"This is not the time and place Little Bas. And you'd probably be better off hearing this from the Elf." Iron Bull warned and Dawn bit her tongue to keep from saying what she thought of THAT.

"I'm not going to like this am I?" In the end she trusted Iron Bull's caution, he'd picked up on something she missed clearly. Solas would never hurt her, but he was a trickster by nature, he'd already proven willing to take questionable moral action in regards to her. They were still learning each other's boundaries after all.

Iron Bull remained silent, giving her nothing to work with. Goddamn ex-Ben Hassrath. And because the slowly blooming disaster that her life seemed to be turning into needed more excitement, one of the Orlesian nobles got bold enough, or drunk enough, to brave the intimidating Inquisition members standing around her to approach. “Lady Harbinger, if I might have a word with you?” he was one of the Celene sycophants she’d danced with yesterday.

She did not need this shit right now. “Lord Orrick, whatever we may discuss it can be done so here.” She smiled but it was more barcing of teeth than welcome. He’d been one of the ones to presume her dance with Solas implied a certain sensuousness of personality and was trying to bed her.

  
“My Lady,” his eyes obviously flicked to Solas, then more hesitantly to Varric and then up to Iron Bull. Apparently Lord Orrick thought Dawn had some stamina and now her smile held amusement, he misconstrued that as encouragement to continue. “I had wanted to continue presenting my argument for that… collaboration I was discussing with you yesterday. I did not want to cause any jealousy amongst your…servants.” He once again flicked a judgemental look towards the non-humans.

  
Iron Bull’s face looked politely neutral, Varric looked so amused it was hard not to laugh, and Solas was barely concealing his rage. Dawn could feel an almost sadistic laugh build in her gut as the man continued to press his opinion.

  
“Just one kiss my Lady, and I would die a happy man.” The perfumed idiot tried to cajole.

  
Dawn’s polite smile turned vicious and she knew it by how her friends reacted to it. “Lord Orrick, if you try for that kiss you will die, but it won't be happy.” She warmed, never losing the grin; the asshole went bone white. After he politely excused himself, Dawn gave in to the laughter bubbling in her gut.

  
“That was beautiful Sweetheart.” Varric sounded proud, saluting her with his glass.

  
“He was implying I was sleeping with all of you,” Dawn was shaking her head, the thought making her laugh uncontrollably considering her earlier comment, “as if any one person would actually survive that.”

  
“That’s a wonderful vote of confidence there Sweetheart, I didn’t know you felt that way.” Varric teased back with a wink.

  
Dawn kept her teeth locked together over the comment that wanted to come out in response to that, her eyes automatically jumping to Solas as her face burned hotly. He had an eyebrow arched and an amused, possessive smile. “You’ve played a touch of the Game before Ena’vun, it shows.” Solas complimented.

  
“Did I lie?"Dawn disn't expect an answer and he quirked his eyebrow, recognizing that she had done that deliberately.

  
“After this, water only until the night is won.” Iron Bull drew her attention, handing her the last pink drink.

  
“Alright; well I’m not the one going to be at risk for the next while so ah…none of you better fucking die.” She saluted with her glass and sipped it as they all stamed silent at her blunt cheers.

  
“From what I heard Sweetheart, you owe both these two a drink for having to keep you alive from that condition yesterday.” Varric pointed out, not adding any humour for once.

  
“Then I was in very good hands, wasn’t I?” she shot back. She finished her drink, desperate to wash the memory of blood from her tongue. “Time for me to dance with Alena, you all get to do your thing once I’m spinning about with Blackwall.” She didn’t look back at them as she stepped out to meet the Inquisitor.

  
Her friend did a better job of looking pleasantly proud as they danced, seeming to be utterly carefree despite what was about to come. Dawn was a wreck already and she felt like every single Orlesian and Inquisition eye watching could tell that. “So the whole world knows about you and Beardy now, how does that make you feel?” Dawn queried desperate to know her friend's secret to nonchalance.

  
“Surprisingly good. I love him, the world could end tomorrow, who cares if people know that behind closed doors he is mine in every way.” Alena shrugged, her almost smugly poetic words making Dawn almost wistful.

Dawn didn't regret sleeping with Solas, she knew how her heart worked and he had found his way inside it a long time ago. But so had others. And with the vibe she was picking up tonight, she wasn’t sure what they were now. It didn’t feel like cowardice but caution to wait and see what would come next.

  
Alena vanished with Iron Bull, Solas, and Varric, and Dawn danced with Blackwall. “Don’t look so down girl, they’ll be alright.” He tried to cheer her up. “They know what’s coming and our enemies don’t.”

  
“I’m still going to worry, they’re my friends and I love them.” Dawn admitted uneasily.

  
“You are fearless Dawn.” He shook his head and his beard mostly hid his worried frown.

  
“Hardly, I was so scared yesterday. Still kind of am today.” She admitted with a weak laugh.

  
“That’s survival; physical threats deserve fear. But I meant your ability to see all what you see, know what you know and still love people so completely. Fearless.” Blackwall didn’t argue; he just stated his opinion.

  
“So far you’ve all proven to be worth loving.” She helplessly shrugged off his comment and he let her.

  
She had to take a break after that, energy levels too low for sustained dancing. Cassandra and Dorian were her escorts while the others worked or mingled. Neither one had seen her directly after the attack but she didn't seem to know what to say to them now either. It promised to make for an awkward time at the final night of the party but unfortunately Dawn wasn't going to get a problem that mundane.

  
In the game when the Inquisitor gets ambushed and obtains the final proof of Florianne's duplicity she gets to rush back into the dance hall to surprise the Venatori agent before the assassination. Dawn was desperately looking forwards to seeing the cutscene starring her friend Alena. She just wasn't entire sure when it was going to happen. So Dawn tried to keep herself unobtrusive as she wandered the party with Cassandra and Dorian, conversations fleeting and faulty. She tried to listen for any distant fracas that would turn the night into a real rumpus. She even tried to discreetly keep track of where Florianne was. But the one thing Dawn hadn't anticipated seeing was little Felessan from her first night slipping out of a service corridor to run up to her.

  
Dawn saw both Warrior and Mage freeze, unsure how to react to a child charging at her, but once again Dawn simply dropped to her knees . "Are you okay little arrow? What are you doing here?" she worried, checking him over for injuries and finding none.

  
"How many surprises do you have Dawn?" Dorian teased helpfully.

  
"Dorian, hush." Cassandra grunted, and Dawn ignored them both.

  
"The bad men are coming. I saw them with red swords that sound ugly and Bae told me to hide. But you knew they would be there and they are and auntie Mahalla says you're safe." Felessan rambled quickly, shifting around in his anxiousness.

  
"Then the Venatori agents are making their move." Dorian caught on quickly.

  
"The Inquisitor needs to kn-" Cassandra started to say but cut herself off.

  
In their focus on Felessan's unexpected arrival and the news he carried, they'd all forgotten to look past their own little circle of attention. "Interesting news bearer you have there Harbinger. I did not realize a human could sway the loyalty of the Elves from Briala's clutches." Florianne's serrated politeness hooked Dawn's attention. She stood too close behind Felessan. In the game Dawn remembered her being a Rogue, but she couldn't remember if the woman was an archer first or two handed blades; given the setting she had to assume blades. Her suspicion proved to be correct as a thin but wickedly sharp looking hooked blade rested over the boy's shoulder and Dawn's heart staggered as blood dripped off of it. A moment later Felessan dropped to his knees silently, tiny mouth gaping in a silent scream as the life went out of his eyes.

  
Although her attire was more intimidating than yesterdays it wasn't any more protective but today Dawn's fear was less than her indignation. She didn't look away for anything, her focus utterly on Florianne's eyes as the other woman calculated what action to take next. Iron Bull and Hawke both said that a person's eyes will tell you what they're about to do, and Florianne's eyes were looking for a way out. Dawn didn't wasn't going to give her the chance.

  
"You want me, Venatori scum I'm all yours." Dawn snarled at her even as she made her own move.

  
She'd once promised Iron Bull she'd tell him before doing anything she thought might be suicidal, and she'd actively told Solas this morning she would be careful. She thought of neither as her hand shot out, grabbing Florianne's wrist and pulling the blade wielding hand closer to herself. It was a move the woman clearly wasn't expecting and that surprise gave Dawn the time to slam her fist into Florianne's mask covered face. Felessan's body was an obstacle underfoot and Dawn had to swallow a scream that wanted to come out as Florianne kicked it out of the way. She dared not look away as Florianne slashed out with her other blade, staggering back. Blood dripped out from under the edge of her mask. Dawn's focus cut out the sounds of the crowd gasping and watching in eager, despairing enthusiasm. She was only the most vaguely aware of faces and eyes, noise but no words. Everything else was watching Florianne; eyes, blades, shoulders, feet. The woman lunged, and Dawn only spun out of the way at the last minute. A line of pain burned along her ribcage, blood dripping down her skin in a hot, ticklish dribble. It wasn't going to kill her immediately even if it hurt like hell so Dawn ignored it and tried not to look down at it instead of watching Florianne. She'd frozen for a moment, humiliation at another failure staining her cheeks and pressing tears she couldn't risk letting fail. At least she knew what it looked like now though, when Florianne's eyes crinkled that little bit an attack was coming.

  
The next time Dawn saw it she did a slight side step instead of a larger dodge, gripping Florianne's wrist as the thrust went past to hold her arm steady, and drove her palm into Florianne's elbow; forcing the joint in the wrong direction with a sickening pop. Florianne's return assault dissolved into a shriek of pain, her blades dropping to the ground from hands that couldn't grip them for the agony radiating in her arm. Dawn let go of the woman's wrist as she dropped to her knees, tears cascading from under her mask and Dawn grabbed a fistful of her coiffure to pull her head back sharply. Her good hand wrapped around Florianne's throat and squeezed tightly.

  
"I have your life in my hands and it means nothing to me; you murdered a child. Be grateful to your fake red god that your judgement doesn't lie in my hands. I am the Harbinger, I know every future you have left and I want to make you suffer." Dawn warned with brutal honesty, tightening her grip. This woman shad sent someone to kill her yesterday, and Dawn knew intimately the terror of being strangled to death. Florianne' eyes flew wide, hands scrambling up to clutch at Dawn's determined hold.

And then she released her grip, not at all surprised to find that she was three for three at causing a spectacle of herself. Every eye was on her and all Dawn cared to see was that Alena was there, watching. Her friend read whatever plea or cry Dawn's face gave her and walked towards her. "Inquisitor, the Venatori agent in Halamshiral has been subdued as you requested." the shaking in her hands wasn't anger anymore. That had evaporated and all she wanted to do was cry. It was inappropriate and she knew it so Dawn swallowed the urge down.

  
"Thank you for serving us tonight Harbinger," Alena's response surprised her and she realized it was Alena's way of helping Dawn. It was still too much for her to handle, and Dawn could only give her friend a bow of her head; her spine felt made of welded steel and would not relent, and it was all Dawn could do to keep her hands held loose instead of clenching them into fists.

  
She couldn't focus on Alena completing the mission; couldn't hear people trying to discuss what had just happened. Nothing else mattered. Dawn spun on her heel, twisting around as tears in her eyes threatened again and she had to fight to keep her composure a little longer. Her jaw ached with how tightly her teeth were clenched and she marched stiffly past the Inquisition and Court both and out to the same balcony she'd fallen off the day before. At least she knew there was a viable escape route. The tears scalded as they fell, her skin clammy and cold in the night breeze. But she refused to make a sound, savagely crushing the sobs her body ached for.

  
It surprised her when it was Iron Bull that quietly stood at the railing next to her, doing nothing more than resting a comforting arm across her shoulders. But her will power crumbled and she curled into his chest, sobs muffled against scars earned from much worse battles. He hugged her then, letting her hide the emotions against his chest until she felt capable of speaking them in a less primal fashion.

  
"I got that little boy killed." her voice sounded terrible, emotions and injury making her phlegmy. Iron Bull didn't speak, seeming to know she wasn't looking for answers- the reality was just too much for her to digest all at once. "I wanted to kill her. I wanted to take her to the ground and bash her skull into the white marble." the confession left her feeling hollow.

  
"You didn't." Iron Bull pointed out, letting her pull free from the embrace.

  
She turned to look out over the balcony, eyes seeking out the route she'd run the night before; someone had raked the pebbles back into aesthetic order. "I wanted to. I didn't spare her out of mercy Iron Bull; why should she get off easy, death is an end and she deserves to pay."

  
Now she turned to face him again, unable to keep still with all the...noise inside trying to get out now that she'd started talking. "I'm not always a nice person Iron Bull; I'm emotional and impulsive and its goften a little boy killed." she warned.

  
"You're still riding your adrenaline and endorphin high Dawn; a bad guy kidled a cute kid to get to you. You disarmed her and despite an entirely excusable justification you didn't become a killer. And that is alright Little Bas. You felt rage and it didn't own you, you subdued her." he settled his hands on her shoulders and it was only then that she realized she was swaying from side to side as if she was unable to stand still. "Don't mistake being a passionate person for being someone who let's those emotions rule them." he corrected. "If you were then Florianne's brains would be staining the dance floor."

  
"None of this makes me feel any better." Dawn admitted. 

  
Iron Bull faced her straight on, "It won't Little Bas, you came out the victor but it never feels like a win when there's blood on the floor." His focus shifted to the wound on her side. "Little Bas you're lucky its shallow. You still need to have it looked at."  

  
Dawn still felt hollow; he probably had a point about the shock. "We should go back inside, once the Inquisitor is done her thing she's supposed to come out here and dance with her partner." she all but babbled, trying to act normal.

  
"She's already danced with Beardy, yesterday to cover for when Solas and I had to get you out." Iron Bull carefully reminded.

"Where is Solas?" Dawn wondered, surprised that he wasn't the one out here.

"The Boss needed a word with him." Bull said.

"I'm here Ena'vun." Solas interrupted whatever Iron Bull was about to add.

She was the shocked to see his face bloodied, not a serious wound but as if someone had punched him in the face. Iron Bull gave Dawn a little salute and let them have the balcony.

"Are you alright?" She demanded, astonished to see him even so minimally hurt.

"Ena'vun you are the one bleeding, once again, from a knife wound. And you ask if I am alright?" Solas looked angry and Dawn wasn't surprised to see that; he'd been begging her to take it easy. But he had to know why she couldn't have stood still, why she had tear tracks on her cheeks and a hollow pit in her chest. "Vhenan," Solas eschewed the careful distance they'd maintained for the evening and stepped close, putting his forehead to hers and holding her carefully. "Dance with me again? For no one else but us this time." 

Dawn gave him a lopsided smile and a soft kiss. Fuck the not confirming anything rule, the night had NOT gone as planned already. And she put her hand in his, feeling him curl one behind her back to hold her close, not at all her blood would get on his mostly white clothes. And then they danced. It wasn't the fast paced, showy choreography that had built their relationship but a more gentle style Dawn had watched in one of his distant memories. They maintained quiet eye contact while dancing, Solas losing the edge of anger as Dawn felt the last of the cold leave her bones. She had been hurt again, but she had won. The loss of Felessan made Dawn want to cry again but she held it at bay for now, just wanting to dance in her lover's arms.

  
The music stopped and they stepped apart and it was like the world intruded once again. Sarcastic clapping pattered from the archway and Dawn saw Alena and Morrigan about to have their 'liaison' conversation. It was Morrigan clapping and as soon as she had Dawn's attention, she walked out. "Twas wonderfully spun Harbinger." her sharp smile indicated more than just the dance.

  
"It's hard not to dance well when your partner knows what they're doing." Dawn carefully deflected, knowing that she was outmatched in this kind of exchange. "But don't let us keep you two from business, I'll have plenty of time to make your acquaintance." she put a pleasant smile on.

  
Morrigan gave her an intense look and Dawn wondered for a moment if the Witch of the Wilds was about to unleash her acidic wit at her. "Tis vexing to realize that although you appear quite mundane to the regular senses, to the magical ones you are quite something unique." she sounded annoyed to admit.

  
"The Harbinger for the Inquisition is from a world none on ours can even imagine." Solas almost sounded angry as he commanded attention. "Ena'vun?" he offered his hand, his gaze directed at the slight wound in her side.

  
"She murdered Felessan Old Wolf; kindness was not an option." Dawn immediately stated.

  
"Yet she still lives and breathes; that isn't a kindness?" Morrigan scoffed.

  
"No." Dawn and Solas answered in unison and she shot him a sad smile. She'd liked Morrigan for the most part and agreed with her on some things even, but Dawn had long ago accepted that the game was pathetic and weak compared to the real people. However Dawn still refused to let the Witch of the Wild get away with her mysterious and aloof routine.

  
So Dawn let Solas take her hand so he could do what little doctoring he could for her. She looked back at Iron Bull and saw him watching the entire scene unfolding with an amused smile on his face. He caught her looking at him and gave the deliberate blink that was his best attempt at a wink and for some reason her face flushed.

  
"Your hand is fine, though expect some mild bruising." Solas' clinical assessment drew her attention now, and when he carefully checked her ribcage goose bumps raced across her skin. "It will sting but this needs to be cleaned out, the Venatori have used poison on you before." he warned with a carefully neutral tone but when he met her gaze his eyes were all anger. "I thought there was supposed to be a competent mage with barrier watching over you?" the fact that his anger wasn't directed at her surprised her.

  
"I'm fine." she insisted but it didn't calm him any.

  
"Ar lath ma Ena'vun,  I've shared heartbreak and passion with you; there is never going to be a time when I am alright with seeing you hurt." Solas said it simply, no subterfuge.

  
As he kissed her, Varric swaggered over to say, "Sweetheart do you know how to do anything the easy way?"

  
"I only know on how to do two things the easy way and you haven't asked the right way to see them." Dawn waggled her eyebrows with her tongue caught in her teeth to imply innuendo.

  
"So what is the right way to ask?" Varric challenged back, seeming surprised at her antics.

  
"Politely." Dawn kept a straight face for another heartbeat before laughing. But less than a minute later and her laughter slid tears down her cheeks and suddenly she wasn't laughing anymore but crying again.

  
"There's the drop." Iron Bull announced from over her shoulder but he sounded weirdly far away with how her ears were ringing.

  
"Let me take you home Ena'vun." Solas' suggestion was accompanied by his familiar embrace.

  
"Home is not a place or a People, it's the people you pick." Cole announced, suddenly appearing. His arrival had caused the others to react and her comforting hug to end, but it had also given Dawn the surprise she'd needed to snap out of the emotional fog.

  
"Time for the Inquisition to go kids." Alena ambled over to the growing huddle of people around Dawn.

  
Her friends had helped her keep from making yet another spectacle with her emotions at least; they'd shuffled her to the side and surrounded her from view. Iron Bull was a comforting wall of muscle, Alena a deadly grin leading the way, Solas a quiet comfort and Varric straight up held her hand as they walked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I tried to warn you.
> 
> Translations:  
> Ar lath ma- I love you
> 
> Hehe. I hope it was interesting even though it repeated a lot of the canon story.


	4. All Faded New for Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final installment in the Halamshiral COULD have been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to wrap up THE conversation. 
> 
> No editing done, sorry.

Solas didn’t pace the room as he waited for Dawn to come down, but that was only because he knew the others were watching him. It amused him that they had all made assumptions about his relationship to Ena’vun long before this trip, and despite the evidence to the contrary, they were all surprised at the development.

“Wife?” It was Varric that finally had the required nosiness to try and pester answers out of him.

Solas tore his gaze from the door where she should be arriving, his concern only growing as Leliana and Josephine arrived without Ena’vun. “Some of us like to take immediate action once a decision has been made, as opposed to wasting a decade.” He shot back and shut the Dwarf up.

Dawn finally arrived, absolutely unharmed but with Iron Bull walking as her escort and Solas was gratified to see her scanning the crowd to find him. His feet brought him closer to her without Solas even thinking about it, but before he could reach her side the Commander started to speak. “Iron Bull, as the Harbinger’s designated escort for the night you are to ride in with her, Madam de Fer as mage support, and Varric.” Solas open his mouth to argue not at all satisfied with that arrangement but the Commander started to speak again before he had the chance. “The Inquisitor will be riding in with Lady Montilyet, Blackwall, and Dorian. Cassandra, Sera, and Solas will be conferring with Leliana; she requires your input on a slight change to the plans.” Cullen announced, only then looking up at the people he’d been addressing.

“Commander…” Solas didn’t care if it ruined the Commander’s plans; he was going in Dawn’s carriage.

“Solas, you’re riding in with the Nightingale, if you want to argue take it up with her. Let’s move Inquisition.” The Inquisitor’s words offered neither anger nor comfort, nothing with which Solas could argue without seeming unreasonable.

Instead he turned to look at Dawn, eyes dropping to look at her hand with his sylvanwood ring on it. “I’ll see you in there Old Wolf.” His Ena’vun tried to comfort.

With everyone watching them he wanted to lay claim to her again, and again and as many times as it took for these people to understand that he belonged at her side. Not constantly pulled away when he only just got to have her. But he also wanted to steal her away and keep what was between them private and cherished, not for the eyes of so many to witness. His hand came up to cup her cheek gently, trying to say with hands and eyes everything he didn’t dare say in front of so many, and she smiled as if she understood and placed a kiss in his palm. It was a sweet, simple gesture and it helped settle his unease; with everyone watching it was a way for Dawn to acknowledge their relationship without words. He loved her for it, but unless Solas wanted to embarrass himself he had to focus on work.

It was time to discuss the consequences Leliana had earned in failing to protect Ena’vun yesterday. As the others in their carriage climbed on, he stopped next to the lethal Bard that seemed to be waiting for him.

Solas didn’t give the spymaster a chance to speak first. “When these events are settled, then you and I will settle. Until then I expect better than yesterday.” He warned, voice not showing any emotion at all despite the worry and anger that was driving him.

Leliana watched him, her face carefully set into a slightly amused expression that let none of her thoughts leak through. Solas didn’t care; he didn’t need her fear, respect, or even dismissal, as long as she understood that he would follow through on the warning she’d been given. “We have a task to focus on, apostate, and until it is done you are either an ally playing your role or an enemy in the way. Pick carefully.” She threatened right back and Solas let a predator’s grin bare his teeth.

“I am hers.” Solas replied simply.

Leliana gave him a careful, studying look. “Then for now stick to the plans, it’s the best way to keep your wife safe.” She informed without spite.

Solas fell silent, hating that his lapse yesterday had exposed such a private matter to public scrutiny. His saota wasn’t for the members of the Inquisition to gossip and dissect and he had no one to blame for them already knowing except for himself. Settling into the carriage for the relatively short ride to the Palace offered him no distraction from his dissatisfaction either, merely the chance to wallow in discomfort.

But the Nightingale had wanted them in the carriage for a reason.

Dawn had previously warned the Advisors that the Venatori agent was Florianne, and that she would ambush the Inquisitor right before making her move on Celene. With the attack on Dawn the previous night, the assumption going forwards was that after the ambush there would be two assassination attempts: one on Celene and another for Ena’vun. If the Venatori wanted to gain control and power, they could not allow a threat like the Harbinger to live.

“Cassandra, you will be the Warrior by her side during this stage,” Leliana spoke as if expecting to be interrupted at any moment, her words clipped and serious. “My people are in place to protect Celene should we need to take action but we cannot put the same securities around the Harbinger without drawing suspicion.”

“Tha’s why ya wanted sommat like me in this cabbie eh?” Sera interrupted. “I can be there and none of these idiots sees me because they can’t see anything past the pointy bit on my ear.”

Leliana gave a shallow nod. “Varric will be accompanying the Inquisitor and the Spirit Cole is on hand to react to events as they change.”

The carriage was already slowing and Solas kept his irritation hidden. He had been commanded to attend this ride and yet it seemed solely to vex him. They stopped and the other two spilled out, escaping the noxious tension in the air. Neither Solas nor Leliana wanted the other at their back, not trusting that empty hands meant unarmed.

But his advantage was that he did not need to be close to strike true. Solas set Barrier over himself because he did not take risks, and slid out of the carriage ahead of the cautious Nightingale.

“Despite the events that have occurred thus far,” Leliana finally spoke the part of the plans that regarded his actions. Solas listened to what she had to say but his eyes sought out Ena’vun. “It would be best to confirm and deny nothing.” Leliana’s words brought his attention onto her fully again.

“That did nothing to protect her yesterday.” He rejected having to endure another night of watching his falon’saota from a distance. It was hard enough to watch her standing away from him now and they weren’t amongst active enemies yet.

“Solas, it would take very little for the Venatori to turn the position of Harbinger into a very dangerous position to fill without her being married to an Elvhen apostate. The Inquisition, even you, can only do so much to protect her amongst this many people. We cannot give them a reason to turn on her.” The Nightingale’s words smothered the righteousness he felt.

He could aim all the retribution he wanted at Leliana but it would never satisfy because he bore guilt too. Dawn had been hurt, grievously hurt, and he had not been around to help her until it was too late. Even with his protections on her she had nearly died.

Solas looked at Leliana, keeping a tight rein on his Power and emotions both. “I will do everything within my power to keep her safe, and you can depend on that far greater than you can your absent Maker.”

They were moving inside, the Inquisitor the spearhead of their group. Ena’vun was tucked safely inside the circle of Warriors and Rogues available and he trusted the ring on her finger more than the other two mages to keep her safe. But the moment he was free to maneuver, Solas didn’t resist the part of him that needed to be close to Ena’vun to feel settled.

But even standing near her left his hands shaking with the need to hold her again. And he couldn’t, not without putting her at more risk. Discipline had him hooking his hands behind his back, posture still instead of giving in to his needs. "The best way I can keep you safe tonight, Ena'vun is for you to confirm and deny nothing. Once again." He explained when he saw the flash of confusion in her expressive eyes.

"Looks like you're going to have to keep hold of your temper tonight Chuckles." Varric jibbed at him for yesterday’s indiscretion and Solas felt his nostrils flare in anger as he glared at the Dwarf.

"Worse things have been asked of me. Sometimes I even oblige." Ena’vun’s tone was joking and Solas gave her the slight smile she needed.

"These stories are going to get a lot more fun now." Varric continued to pester but Dawn just rolled her eyes and ignored the irritation.

They had established a guideline to follow for keeping Ena’vun safe tonight, a constant circle of protection that was all that allowed Solas to step back. He was to be the distant protector, Barrier ready to be cast because he held the magic at his fingertips regardless of the strain it caused him. Better to be ready than comfortable.

Although Solas found the Author exhausting, Ena’vun seemed to enjoy his company. “You got a handle on this Sweetheart?” Solas’ keen hearing could still pick out the conversation if he concentrated.

“Chin up, shoulders back, walking with a swagger.” Dawn replied with a wink down at Varric.

“You did good yesterday, getting those two together.” The Dwarf’s comment made no sense to Solas until he saw Varric gesture towards the couple allowed to be openly smitten with each other, Cullen and Josephine.

“I’m glad. It’s nice that this exists, it wasn't part of my world story.” Dawn’s sweetness was hard to resist.

So of course Varric had to pry; everyone else was obeying the ‘confirm nothing deny nothing’ rule but the Author. “I'm betting it's not the only thing that didn't exist in your world story that's come out of this trip." Dawn flushed deeply, eyes darting to look at Solas and he almost stepped towards her but Varric’s words rooted him to the spot. “I will never judge you for the person you love Sweetheart, I just want to make sure you're happy.” Varric shot a look at him as well before up at her again. “And if anyone gives you shit I'll shoot them in the kneecap.”

And Solas found himself holding his breath, keenly aware that his Ena’vun had yet to say certain things. She continued to blush beautifully, and her smile had a satisfied edge that pleased Solas. “Thank you Varric, but I'm not supposed to confirm or deny anything right now remember?" She maintained her teasing tone.

Varric was running throguh Solas’ patience. “You're doing better than he is.”

And to Solas’ delight his Ena’vun spoke in his defense, thoguh she dropped her voice so low even he had to strain to hear it. “I didn't have to watch him almost die last night, I suspect that might have something to do with it. You should understand that better than most after the Arishok." Her words stopped the Author in his tracks but while Solas wanted to congratulate her for it, she merely looked miserable with guilt before turning to her friend to say, "I'm sorry that was..."

"No, you're right. I might not be married but it was exactly that. I'm sorry." Varric apologized and Solas found himself walking over despite all the warnings.

"I'm not the one you're taking digs at Sugar." Dawn nudged Varric’s shoulder with her hip and he laughed, leaving her side as Solas approached.

“Thank you Ena’vun.” Solas’ forced himself to stop while still out of arm’s reach. Any closer and he could not trust himself.

Dawn gave a one sided shrug. "I still feel like an ass." She admitted, not seeming surprised to have Solas know what she was talking about.

It pleased him that she anticipated or knew his abilities well enough to simply accept them. Her concern over the power imbalance in their marriage was a real one he intended to respect, but it was comforting to know that she would not hold his natural hearing range against him in the same manner. His partner, his Ena’vun, accepted him.

He looked at another shadow called to the rising sun, Iron Bull standing close behind her. “Did you wish to continue the match Iron Bull?" Solas had confronted the ex-spy once long ago for Dawn’s sake, he would do so much more now. And when Iron Bull inclined his head affirmative, Solas smiled, "After careful consideration; knight to D5.”

“Arishok takes pawn at B2.” Iron Bull seemed to carefully answer but although he seemed relaxed Solas knew better.

Solas smirked. “Mage to D6.”

“Arishok takes tower; check. What are you doing Solas?” Iron Bull demanded suspiciously.

“King’s Gambit.” Dawn didn’t even hesitate to interrupt the banter and had both their absolute attentions. “It’s what I remember my world story calling the maneuvers you’re using.”

“So you know how this match is played?” Solas could read in her face before knowing her answer.

“I know what King falls, I can’t remember the moves.” She corrected as he studied her expression.

“King to E2.” Solas finally looked from Dawn back to the ominously silent Iron Bull.

When Iron Bull remained quiet, Dawn turned to face him. He wasn’t looking at Solas but down at her and Dawn could only shrug. “Alright. Tamassran takes tower.” It was only then that he looked away from Dawn, “Your last tower, by the way.”

“Pawn to E5.” Solas didn’t feel worried despite Iron Bull’s warning.

“Really? I’ve got my whole army bearing down on your King and you’re moving a pawn?” Iron Bull sounded flatly lost by the maneuver.

“Never underestimate the power of even a single piece Iron Bull, hasn’t the Inquisitor taught you that?” Dawn interrupted. “No one wins, regardless of what King falls. What is the cost of victory?” she tried immensely hard to not look at either one as they stared at her.

And before either could reply, Varric came in to rescue her now. “Come on Sweetheart, let’s dance.” He grabbed her hand and led her away. 

They watched in equally tense silence as Ena'vun danced far out of arm's reach. His magic however still held her safe. It was why when she left up the far stairs he didn't wordy, but Fade Stepped right to her side almost immediately. Dawn looked at Varric and they both started to laugh.

“What happened to sparing an Old Wolf’s nerves Ena’vun?” Solas chided, hands once again laced behind his back.

“I still obeyed the rules, I’m not apologizing.” Dawn shook her head and finished her drink.

“How was this not flouting the rules?” Iron Bull called her out but he sounded amused.

“I’m supposed to have either a Warrior or Rogue with me, and a Mage capable of barrier within eye line. Did I violate any of that?” she demanded of the trio guarding her, almost daring them to argue. 

“It helps if you have all of us at once Ena’vun.” Solas continued to lecture.

“I would need a couple more drinks before being brave enough to request that.” Dawn said something deliberate in her tongue

“No fair, I can hear the sarcasm but I just can’t tell what you’re saying.” Varric passed her a second drink.

Dawn laughed. And although beautiful his impatience to understand flashed as she said, “Never going to happen.” She denied Varric’s implied request.

“That's probably for the best Sweetheart.” Varric nodded in agreement, clinking glasses with her.

Solas and Iron Bull settled nearby, trying to not obviously be her body guards but still staying close enough to be effective if they had to be. Time tickled by until their shifts altered.

“How are you holding up Little Bas?” Iron Bull asked, interrupting a vital conversation between Dawn and Varric about Nugs versus Raccoons to hand her one of those pink drinks he’d mentioned earlier.

He was thwarted from listening in as Varric came to chatter at him incessantly. "I owe you an apology Chuckles, I have lived through seeing someone I love that close to death. It sucks. So now Im just going to say congratulations." 

Solas blinked as numbly shook Varric’s hand. "Thank you." he accepted.

They stood awkwardly silent until one of the Orlesian nobles got bold enough, or drunk enough to approach. “Lady Harbinger, if I might have a word with you?” he was one of the Celene sycophants she’d danced with yesterday.

Dawn seemed as displeased as Solas felt to see the troublesome noble. “Lord Orrick, whatever we may discuss it can be done so here.” She smiled but it lacked her usual warmth.

“My Lady,” his eyes obviously flicked to Solas, then the cretin looked to Varric and then up to Iron Bull. If Lord Orrick thought Ena’vun would need other lovers he was gravely mistakenly, and Solas savagely suppressed a snarl. “I had wanted to continue presenting my argument for that… collaboration I was discussing with you yesterday. I did not want to cause any jealousy amongst your…servants.” He once again flicked a judgemental look towards Solas and the other two. Solas suddenly understood how Iron Bull could enjoy ripping someone apart with their own hands. The thought had gained appeal.

“Just one kiss my Lady, and I would die a happy man.” The human was doomed.

Dawn’s polite smile turned vicious and Solas lost his anger to astonished, not expecting this. “Lord Orrick, if you try for that kiss you will die, but it won't be happy.” She warmed, never losing the grin. After he politely excused himself, Dawn started laughing and Solas ached to hold her.

“That was beautiful Sweetheart.” Varric saluted her with his glass.

“He was implying I was sleeping with all of you,” Dawn was shaking her head, the thought making her laugh, and her humour was a balm to his wounded pride, “as if any one person would actually survive that.”

“That’s a wonderful vote of confidence there Sweetheart, I didn’t know you felt that way.” Varric teased back with a wink.

His Pride was further assuaged when her gaze automatically jumped to his, that marvellous flush on her cheeks. He had an eyebrow arched and smile he hadn’t anticipated. “You’ve played a touch of the Game before Ena’vun, it shows.” He honestly complimented.

“Did I lie?" Ena’vun didn’t seem to expect an answer and he quirked his eyebrow, recognizing that she had done that deliberately.

“After this, water only until the night is won.” Iron Bull drew her attention, handing her the last pink drink.

“Alright; well I’m not the one going to be at risk for the next while so ah…none of you better fucking die.” She saluted with her glass in a jarring reminder of the stakes.

“From what I heard Sweetheart, you owe both these two a drink for having to keep you alive from that condition yesterday.” Varric pointed out, but Solas kept his expression neutral; this was not the time or place.

“Then I was in very good hands, wasn’t I?” she shot back eyes flashed to Solas quickly. “Time for me to dance with Alena, you all get to do your thing once I’m spinning about with Blackwall.”

She didn’t look back at him as she stepped out to meet the Inquisitor.

Solas knew how to cut his focus to the moment, excluding any and all distractions. It had seen him through the fall of those he had considered brothers and sisters in arms. It had borne him through the devastation he endured after seeing the cost his folly had on the world, his People. It had held him fast as Corypheus tore open the Breach with his Orb.

It failed him now as he worried for Dawn. A persistent ache that he never wholly adjusted to, even as the Inquisitor led them towards what they knew to be an ambush. He was aware of the dark corners they skulked through, eyes and magic scanning for threats. His ears listened for the tell-tale sounds of violence, and he was ready when Alena confronted Florianne’s ambushed armed with foreknowledge and a vendetta against her.

Sadly the noble responsible for the attempt on Dawn’s life fled before Solas or the Inquisitor could reach her, retreating inside and away from her inevitable fate. It had only taken the edge off his anger to go through the ambush, absolutely annihilating them. Solas wanted to rip apart anyone that could have threatened his Ena’vun, but there wouldn’t be enough blood in the world if he went down that route. He wasn’t losing her, not even to his own Pride or Rage.

His resolved on that was immediately tested as they returned to the Great Hall. They heard the gasps and cried of dismay, heard a scream of feminine pain, and all that kept Solas sane was seeing Ena’vun stand over her bloodied enemy without the ring of Protection activating. He dissected the scene quickly; the crumpled and bloodied form that was too small, too still. A wound weeping blood slashed across Dawn’s torso; his own blood running cold at the sight of it although there was so much less today.

Dawn stood over Florianne, hands wrapped around the Venatori agent’s throat. For the pain and fear Florianne had caused Dawn, Solas wanted his falon’saota to squeeze the life out of the other woman. Remove the chance of the threat returning entirely. But Ena’vun was better than that.

"I have your life in my hands and it means nothing to me; you murdered a child. Be grateful to your fake red god that your judgement doesn't lie in my hands. I am the Harbinger, I know every future you have left and I want to make you suffer." The anger in her voice called to him, begged him to come to her side because it barely covered the fear he knew was still there.

And then she released her grip. Every eye was on Ena’vun but looked towards them, focusing on the watching Inquisitor. Even now Ena’vun knew to try and recover the scene, "Inquisitor, the Venatori agent in Halamshiral has been subdued as you requested."

"Thank you for serving us tonight Harbinger," Alena's response shattered something in Dawn’s eyes and Solas was powerless to move to comfort her; there were too many watching eyes. Ena’vun gave a stiff nod of her head before retreating away.

Seeing her composure breaking, Solas moved to go to her, the Void take their decree for him to keep his distance. But to Solas’ vast astonishment, the Inquisitor stopped him.

“Stay put Solas, there’s a big fucking question I need you to answer before I let you go.” There was an unmistakable threat to Alena’s voice.

“Inquisitor?” his questioning tone covered the dismay and concern he felt; had she figured out his connection to the Orb already?

But Alena dealt with Florianne, seeming to watch him as much as the threat in front of her. Had he missed something vital, some clue that would explain the sudden animosity that had not been there in the previous half of the evening? His control and caution worried into outright anxiety as the Court celebrated the Inquisitor and her interference to save their Empress while he was held to the spot.

He expected hushed, harsh words from the ex-assassin as she led him for a private discussion; instead Alena surprised him. Pain blinded him, a strike drawing blood from his nose but not breaking it; enough to stagger and warn but not disable. As Solas snarled, magic coming up to defend himself from another attack he couldn’t see, Alena’s voice spoke out of stealth,

“Dawn doesn’t know you’re married.” A hiss warned.

Barrier failed him; the magic normally dancing across his aura staggered by the Inquisitor’s words. She wasn’t the type to lie; Alena would rather use silence than falsehoods. He didn’t want to believe her but Solas’ subconscious decided for him; a part of him suspected but Ena’vun had acted like she knew.

“No. She must…” his denial was weak, heartbreaking as he put the pieces together; his declaration of love, but none from Ena’vun. Dawn, who was so expressive, not remarking on their marriage should have been enough for him to catch. “But it was a handfasting…” he couldn’t seem to stop the words and Alena’s look turned damnably pitying.

“You need to talk to her.” The Inquisitor warned, all anger gone now that she’d satisfied herself on Solas’ innocence.

“I will lose her.” He sighed, pushing back against the tide of emotions that threatened to drown him. “I thought she knew.” The words were softly spoken, “When we return to the villa; she deserves privacy for this.” He knew it was inevitable. Maybe if he hadn’t already miss-stepped by putting magic on her without her permission first but even Solas knew this was a far graver mistake. He had felt at the time like it was the only reasonable act, her words and his own so telling. He regretted his incautious tongue sorely now; she would suffer for it.

“Go.” Alena’s word galvanized his steps forward.

Iron Bull was the one out on the balcony Dawn had retreated to, and Solas had to suppress his anger to see that the Tal Vashoth had been free to comfort her while he had not been. Each tear track down Dawn’s beautiful face felt like a knife stabbing into him, and Solas knew there was still worst to come even as Ena’vun asked for him.

"I'm here Ena'vun." He would be there for her for as long as she’d look for him, Solas suspected it would shortly end.

"Are you alright?" Her concern for his minimal wounding was gratifying and unnecessary.

"Ena'vun you are the one bleeding, once again, from a knife wound. And you ask if I am alright?" Solas foguht with his anger, most of it turned inwards. "Vhenan," Solas cast off the distance they were supposed to maintain and took her in his arms. "Dance with me again? For no one else but us this time." He was so transparent in his need but still she humoured him. Dawn gave him a lopsided smile and a soft kiss, and knowing how much he truly loved this wondrous Offworlder offered no comfort as he also acknowledged how much it was going to hurt to lose her after this.

He would willingly sacrifice Eons of history from his memory if it meant he could remember every detail of what it felt like to have her in his arms, seeking safety and comfort against him. Solas wanted to press endless kisses against her lips but held back; he would not take what she could not truly freely give.

The current Court Enchanter provided a distraction so he could once again contain his scattered emotions, and once again Ena’vun comported herself as if born to the world of the Game. No matter the disaster that befell her, Dawn seemed ever capable of rising to the challenge in front of her. He still gladly unleashed some of his anger upon this unsuspecting Witch of the Wilds. "The Harbinger for the Inquisition is from a world none on ours can even imagine." Solas knew he sounded angry and pulled on his calm control once more. "Ena'vun?" he offered his hand, knowing his control was all but spent after this evening.

"She murdered Felessan Old Wolf; kindness was not an option." Dawn immediately stated, likely misinterpreting his anger.

"Yet she still lives and breathes; that isn't a kindness?" Morrigan scoffed.

"No." Dawn and Solas answered in unison and she shot him a sad smile. They’d been working together so beautifully that Solas could almost forgive himself for making the assumption that she’d known he had married her. They had been synchronized on everything else thus far.

"Your hand is fine, though expect some mild bruising." Solas fought to remain impartial for a while longer. A true struggle as when he checked her ribcage goose bumps raced across her skin and his memory helplessly provided a memory of what both felt like under his tongue. "It will sting but this needs to be cleaned out, the Venatori have used poison on you before." he warned with a carefully neutral tone but when he met her gaze he knew his eyes expressed his anger. "I thought there was supposed to be a competent mage with barrier watching over you?" he’d known she was not having her life threatened because his ring hadn’t reacted, but the useless Tevinter was supposed to have been protecting her.

"I'm fine." she insisted but it didn't calm him any.

"Ar lath ma Ena'vun, I've shared heartbreak and passion with you; there is never going to be a time when I am alright with seeing you hurt." It was likely his last chance to say it before she hated him, and Solas took the opportunity even if it would make his heart bleed later.

Solas couldn’t care less for the final evening wrapping up, and no one seemed intent on stopping him from retreating with Ena’vun. He would not waste more time, when they returned to the villa he had promised to give her the truth.

As soon as the door to her room closed behind them, Solas had his integrity and willpower tested. Ena’vun seemed to want to chase the memories of violence and death away by sinking them both into sensuous distraction. He desperately wanted to give her that, but now every kiss she eagerly pressed to him felt stolen.

“Ena’vun,” he sighed, hands gentle on her cheeks, thumbs bracketing that demanding, beautiful mouth as her arms wrapped around his waist. “I want this very much but first I need to confirm that you know we’re married.” His words were graceless and plain, no ability to carefully lead her to this conversation left because the answer was too important.

The surprise on her face stabbed his heart and Solas fought to keep it from showing. She truly hadn’t known. His actions, meant with the best of intentions, were now the cause of unfathomable pain. He had been honest in telling her he loved her, Solas had shared too much with Dawn by now not to be inevitably, respectfully, in love with her; but he had been blind no to see the signs that she did not reciprocate.

Her hands left his waist and Solas had to keep himself from holding onto her desperately. Dawn’s hands came up to take his from her face and to Solas’ surprise she held onto them.

“So that was a handfasting with the necklace.” Her tone was that polite but cautious tone she used when trying to figure out her next sentence. He expected she was trying to figure out a way to let him know their marriage was not real to her, but she would never be cruel about it.

 Something of his heartbreak must have shown despite his efforts to conceal it, or Ena’vun knew him well enough to anticipate his pain, because now she lifted her hands to his cheeks; ensuring eye contact. “Solas; you clearly thought I knew, I absolutely believe that. Areolasa ma Solas,” he held carefully still as she rested her forehead to his; painful hope stirring in his breast at her words. “You became the god of rebellion in the face of slavery; you would not force my hand like that.” The complete lack of anger in her tone surprised him. “Do I think we need to work on communication; absolutely, especially after this. But Solas, you’re my husband and that means I am going to find a way to get this to work.”

He stared at her, not a single part of him having expected this reaction. From the moment the Inquisitor had confronted him with his mistake to now, he had only believed that he had ruined the best thing to happen since he woke from uthenera. His surprised stillness fell apart as Dawn pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and he chased her mouth with his. He held her closer, tight against him now and kissed like it was his last chance. And Ena’vun melted into his embrace, her injuries the only consideration calming his insistent passion.

“Please let me see to your wounds.” He spoke softly, lips brushing against hers.

“If you insist, though I really am fine.” She smiled as she watched him, eyes happy.

Solas loosened his embrace enough to drop his fingers, framing the wound across her ribs. He called the gentle cold of winter to chill the wound, numbing the skin. There was no discolouration besides the dried, scabbing blood; no signs of poison. Just a shallow knife wound.

Dawn had given a soft gasp as the magic worked on her skin, eyes wide with astonishment as she watched. He left her side only to go for cloth and water, his intent to wash the dried blood away, and her eyes followed him. As he turned back around after wetting the towel, Solas saw Dawn’s feet had also followed him closer.

“Ar lath ma, falon’saota.” Dawn said the word whose absence had been so telling.

He kissed her again, Ena’vun making a surprised, dismayed sound as the wet towel in his hand pressed against the bare skin of her back. Her body pressed against the mostly white finery he wore and Solas knew her blood had ruined another suit of clothes. He would do everything in his power to ensure it was the last time she bled for the Inquisition.

Of course it wasn’t merely blood staining his finery, the Vitaar painted on both of them added colourful swaths across the white. Dawn squirmed in his arms as the towel dripped against her spine and Solas laughed breathlessly, dropping the damn thing to hold her properly. She responded by all but sealing them together, impatient hands quickly going to work on the buttons closing his vest. When she made a frustrated sound, Solas knew what Ena’vun needed.

He wasn’t apologetic now as his fingers swiftly found the close of the collar at her throat, the fabric concealing the damage inflicted. His marks of passion had been concealed under the badges of death thwarted. Solas cupped the back of Dawn’s neck gently and pressed delicate kisses to the front. Soft gasps fell from her, hands gripping the fabric of his vest for stability as Solas left her throat to search his mouth lower. Now he chases his uncorrupted marks, teeth scraping across her nipple and drawing a hoarse cry from her. The Tal Vashoth top was mostly straps and Solas dropped it away, mouth occupied at her breast. His hand found the wet trails left from the towel and chased the droplets down her spine with his fingers. When he hit the top of her pants, Dawn jolted and pulled at Solas’ vest again.

Now he gaped, Dawn honestly tearing it open in her haste, and the aggressive action made his blood surge. Unlike Dawn’s abdomen, Solas’ was unmarked by Vitaar or wound and now she chased kisses down his belly as her hands pulled the ruined vest off his arms. And then to his utter surprise she dropped to her knees, hands pulling at his trousers insistently.

“Ena’vun…” Solas started to protest, wanting to lavish pleasure on her tonight and forever until his mistake was forgotten entirely.

“Please; ever since you said I ruin you I’ve been aching to show you what _I_ consider ruining you.” Dawn admitted with cheeks flushed.

Even with all of his control there was no way Solas could keep his body from reacting to her words. Her hands pulled the pants away and his breathing stopped as her lips wrapped around his erection. The feel of her slowly swallowing down the length of him even as her hands skimmed down the back of his thighs left him gripping her hair, fighting the thrusts his body wanted.

A ragged sound dragged out of his chest, a gasp for air as well as pleasured agony as Dawn suddenly suctioned and moved, lips and teeth sealing around the base of his cock in a single move. His fingers gripped her braids tightly, breath rasping as she hummed happily before dragging her lips off the length of him. His grip in her hair remained but Solas reined in his urge to take control, no trusting himself to not hurt her in his frenzy.

“Av’in nehn, Ena’vun.” Solas puffed as she grazed the hood of his erection with her teeth purposefully.

His voice pulled her eyes open Solas groaned at the pleasure he saw in her gaze. He knew beyond a doubt how she planned to ruin him, and his marvellous falon’saota would absolutely succeed. A wicked humour sparked in her eyes as she read that awareness off his face and Solas felt his knees try to buckle as her tongue swirled against him. Her nails scratched up the back of his thighs and to his ass, chasing his hips forward into her eager mouth. Dawn gave an excited little sound as Solas’ body refused to settle, muscles flexing on their own accord to drive him into long sucks and sharp bites; his fingers had pulled her braids into disorder. One of her hands left his backside to curl fingers tightly around the base of his shaft and Solas knew he was done for, her grip and sucks alternating with his own helpless thrusts; unpredictable as his body chased the dual sensations eagerly. When her teeth carefully pressured around his cock Solas tried to lock his knees, body pulsing into orgasm that Ena’vun swallowed down with a happy little sound. He knew he was making almost animalistic sounds as she gently suckled and licked him even as his seed stopped spilling. It was only when  Solas gently pulled her away that Dawn stopped with a satisfied smile.

She knelt on the floor, blood red pants all but painted onto the pleasing muscle of her backside, Vitaar and dried blood a testament to her ferocity even as her breasts proudly displayed marks from his teeth. Her savaged throat still looked painful but unabashed need burned in her eyes. Even with her lips freshly swollen from ruining him, Solas felt his own desire stir at the sight of her so wanton for him.

What he wanted to do next would take the time needed for him to recover completely; and he had set wards to repel interruptions in front of the door. Solas helped Dawn to her feet, pressing kisses to her smiling lips even as he stripped her free of her pants. She helped, kicking and wiggling free until they were both finally bare.

As he kissed her, one arm held her across the shoulders while his free hand searched between her thighs; fingers skimming along as Dawn whined in need and his hand came away slicked. Her own hands pulled at his hips, her body seeking friction against his teasing touch.

“Get on the bed Ena’vun.” Solas growled out, fighting to not just take her on the floor.

Her eyes were dazed, flushed with arousal and surprised at his command, but a smile danced on Dawn’s lips as she quickly went to the bed. He followed close behind her, fascinated by the dimples bracketing her spine just above the tempting swell of her ass.

Solas knew he made it hard for Dawn to get onto and lay back on the bed as he requested; his hands kept grabbing onto her lightly, pulling her back towards him so he could kiss her. Dawn was laughing as Solas finally let her settle onto her back, his own chuckles caught in a light kiss.

Her laughter transitioned into a moan as Solas covered her body with his, pulling her thighs apart enough to press the tip of his erection into her. But he pulled his body free without satisfying, Ena’vun’s eyes going wide with astonishment when he instead rubbed hard cock against her clit before adjusting and pushing inside again. Once again only the tip.

“My turn to ruin you Ena’vun.” Solas gladly promised his wife.

He bent his head to capture a nipple into his teeth and heard a harsh breath, her back arching to press into the sensation. As he tormented her breast Solas slowly sank his length into her, paused and withdrew. Her body all but thrashed with impatient desire, her need all but staining her aura.

"Ha'mi'in. Lasa em tua rosas, da'din."

He spoke with lips and breath tickling her skin.

His hand gently pressed into her sternum, holding her stilled for him as he continued to teasingly dip into her body or run across her clit irratically.

The same excitement that had slicked his hand now enveloped him in a silken warmth that he wanted to bury deep into. Her body stilled but he could feel her muscles gripping desperately to the length of him as he slid out of her again. He felt her tremble, entire body sitting on the crest of pleasure and he held her there with shallow thrusts as the head of his erection pushed into and pulled out of her again and again and again. Dawn's body responded to each teasing thrust with a powerful pulse and a flood of excitement. 

Her little desperate sounds, body trying to coax him in deeper all told him how close she was and yet his Ena’vun fought for her own control. 

"Rosa'da'din sule fenedhis."* Solas rasped out in her ear and he saw her eyes fly wide with surprise as her body obeyed the command in his voice. 

Solas groaned into her collarbone as Dawn came, her body throbbing out her ecstasy against him. His hands gripped her shoulders tightly as his thrusts went hard and fast, low moans matched by the sounds Dawn made as his thrusts drew out the gloriously wet pulses her body gave. His orgasm drew a silent snarl from him but a deliciously satisfied groaned from her as he all but collapsed ontop of her.

Despite the sweat and slick drenching them both Dawn all but locked herself around him ; breathing as hard as he was. Solas gladly settled against her, luxuriating in the sensations of Ena'vun being entirely _his._

"Ar lath ma Solas." Her voice was hoarse and his mischevious wife decided that despite both their exhausted satisfaction, she had to nibble on his sensitive ear. He groaned at the resulting sensation and she whined at the effect on his cock still held inside her.

She did promise to put him back together after ruining him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation
> 
> Saota= marriage  
> Av’in nehn= your mouth is ecstasy  
> Ha'mi'in. Lasa em tua rosas, da'din.= Relax. Let me make you cum.  
> Rosa'da'din sule fenedhis = cum on the Dread Wolf's dick


	5. A Wicked Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josie and Cullen's POV for part of the Wicked Eyes, Wicked Hearts, and Wicked Minds chapter.  
> Occurs during Wicked Hearts and into Wicked Minds.
> 
> CANON to Their Lady in Chains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could not get this in without seriously derailing the story flow, but I really wanted to share it.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> This has been waiting for me to post it since Aug 18th. I THOUGHT I had already posted it. I am, apparently, an idiot. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Cullen could taste his anxiety as he crossed the dance hall towards Lady Montilyet. He trusted that Dawn would provide a distraction but as her performance the previous evening had demonstrated, Dawn was almost too good at drawing attention. And he almost faltered as he heard an unfamiliar song in her unfamiliar voice start singing, but Cullen had marched through storms, Dawn singing wouldn't make him slow on his way for something this important.

"Josephine may I have this dance?" he had to stifle a curse at the inadvertent familiar use of her name as opposed to her title, but Lady Montilyet didn't look bothered by the slip at all. "I have been wanting to ask you that since we arrived and Dawn has gifted me the opportunity to say; I want to dance with you tonight, tomorrow, and every single night you'll dance with me after that." his mouth ran dry and he had nothing fancy to say to convince her that he was a worthy suitor. Leliana had 'accidentally' slipped a note about Josephine's parents seeking a betrothal to a Lord Otranto into his reports before they'd left Skyhold.

And despite the fact that Cullen was an ex-Templar struggling with lyrium withdrawals and constant nightmares, Lady Josephine Montilyet smiled at him and accepted his offered hand. "I would be most agreeable to that Cullen." she stepped into his arms to dance and his heart stopped.

Thankfully his feet seemed able to operate without guidance from his brain, they paced out the proper steps he needed. Once again Josephine felt impossibly light-footed as they moved; graceful in his calloused, clumsy grip. And although Dawn had a lovely voice he couldn't tell single word she sang; he was too focused on resisting the urge to kiss the freckle on her cheek.

He'd been so worried to have all the eyes of the Court on him for this because he had anticipated rejection. Cullen wasn't completely blind, or unaware of the fact that his interest was returned but this was a bold move and the Ambassador was nothing but elegant discretion. Now he wasn't even aware of anyone but Josephine and that smile he'd been smitten with starting when she'd cheered at the Inquisitor accepting her title, and nothing else really mattered. Her eyes were bright and she glowed with effervescent delight, looking astonishing in her golden gown.

And Cullen was utterly astounded when Josephine shifted her grip to pull his jacket forward, kissing him right on the mouth. He'd played enough chess and compromised on enough table missions to know when it was a bad idea to fight Josephine, and this was definitely what he wanted. His feet stopped dancing so he could properly hold Josephine in his arms, one hand lifting to touch fingers reverently to her cheek. For all that he felt the Maker's Breath in his blood, the kiss remained appropriately chaste. She had the faintest taste of wine still on her lips that he couldn't help chase after though.

When thunderous applause startled them the kisses finally ended; his arm now curled protectively around her shoulders even as he prepared for an attack. Instead no one spared them a glance; all eyes were on Dawn whom had finished her song. There was a lovely flush to Josephine's cheeks and Cullen was certain he was embarrassingly red. Josephine almost shyly linked arms with him to meet Dawn, but the moment the two ladies were closer together Josephine lighted from his arm to enthusiastically hug Dawn with a soft word of gratitude.

"That was quite the distraction Harbinger." Cullen carefully teased, unable to take his eyes off Josephine's happy smile.

"Well that was the last trick up my sleeve." Dawn seemed in high spirits despite her next words, "Guess I have to go back to dancing with Orlesians."

Lady Montilyet had regained her composure, "Yes, well, we are still here to support the Inquisitor."

“The show must go on.” The Harbinger smiled and Cullen let them walk off without him, knowing that if he stayed around Josephine all the distraction work from the Harbinger would be undone.

There would be time for that later, Cullen couldn’t help but smile even as the Court continued to swirl and simmer. The Inquisitor was dancing and building Influence; letting Lady Montilyet, Madam de Fer, and even Dorian work their particular magics on the socializing nobles. Master Tethras was out of sight at the smoking house, apparently awash with news and intrigue, and Leliana had her people watching for multiple assassination attempts. In position around various entrances and exits were some of the best minds and spies that had turned the Inquisition into a force to be reckoned with.

Cullen caught Lady Montilyet looking towards him and felt a smile break across his face, a flush following suit a moment as he looked away. He worried that they were being too obvious and yet at the same time wanted to make it impossible to ignore as well. Instead of acting on the impulse to flee or go to Josephine, Cullen held his post and waited the night out.

The band allowed the dancers to recover and Cullen looked out to where Dawn should be returning. Only the Harbinger wasn’t where she was supposed to be and Cullen was moving before he could scan the floor again. The Commander breaking position even just to come to the railing was enough on its own to alert the other Advisors that _something_ was wrong. He was the first to realize who was missing but not the only one and Cullen wasn’t in position to see what others were taking action. He only witnessed the Inquisitor vanishing with none of the Court the wiser, and then returning with murder in her eyes and blood on the hem of her dress.

He was a pragmatic man; Cullen understood that even forewarned there was a high likelihood that the Inquisition was going to fail to protect their Harbinger, he still felt the breath rush out of him. He didn’t want to believe it, Dawn couldn’t be dead. She was just…too full of life. Compared to the woman he had accosted what felt like a lifetime ago, the Dawn that had stood here and sang so he could dance with Josephine was an entirely different woman. She couldn’t be gone.

Cullen was forced to remain at his post, watching for any other possible attacks and somehow keeping the concern off of his face. Across the way Josephine looked utterly unworried to those watching her, except that Cullen knew her well enough to recognize the tightness to her smiles. The Inquisition had failed Dawn tonight, and they had no one to blame but themselves.

It wasn’t until Alena pulled Blackwall onto the floor for a dance that it occurred to Cullen that the Inquisitor was acting as a _distraction_. It took the Court less than a heartbeat to see Alena and Blackwall together and realize they were lovers, and the resulting eruption of whispers gave him the chance to scan around quickly, noting that not only was Dawn missing but so were Solas, Iron Bull, and Madam de Fer. He highly doubted that even a Venatori assassin would be able to eliminate **all** of them without drawing attention, which meant that something was going on beyond what he could determine.

“Madam de Fer, Iron Bull and Solas have taken our critically wounded Offworlder to safety.” Leliana ghosted into place next to him, voice low for privacy. “When the Inquisitor and Blackwall have finished, we will all depart.” And the Nightingale was off, spreading the quiet word, and the small hope that Dawn still lived.

Somehow Alena and Leliana managed to pull it off too. The entire Court stared and watched as Alena swirled around the floor in Blackwall’s arms, their dance ending to applause but no Inquisition member spoke. Blackwall offered a courtly arm to the Inquisitor and as he marched at her side off the dance floor, the Inquisition fell into place behind them. Cullen deliberately stood next to Josephine, unwilling to trust that another assassin wouldn’t jump out to harm another Inquisition member, and marveled at how those watching them depart never realized that they were a Qunari, Elf, Mage, and Harbinger short.

He climbed into the carriage with Josephine, Varric, and Cassandra, watching to ensure the one with Leliana, Alena, Blackwall and Dorian got on its way. Sera and Cole had already determined their own ways to and from the Palace and Cullen could not spare the worry for the two Rogues now.

“What is going on Curly?” Varric demanded; his usually jovial tones nowhere to be found.

“Someone made an attempt on the Harbinger’s life, she has survived.” He offered the only news he had.

Varric looked like someone had slapped him, face slack with horrified shock. “What happened?” the Author demanded, the others all silent as they too waited for information Cullen didn’t have.

“I don’t know.” He hated to admit.

“She was dancing with Marquis Lamecachée,” Josephine spoke into the expectant silence. “The band called for the last breather, and I lost sight of where Lady Dawn was taken to.” Cullen could see the guilt across Josephine’s face, as clear as daylight.

“We heard that there was a contract taken out on her, Dawn knew and insisted on attending tonight anyways. I never thought…” Cullen trailed off, not bothering to deny his part of the night’s catastrophe.

“You never thought what, that they would actually try or that they would nearly succeed?” Varric demanded, loud and angry in his worry.

“Varric,” Cassandra’s sharp tone brought him up short at least, “You were the one on the trip in that insisted that we never let her see the steps it takes to keep her safe. This time she was aware of them and a part of them herself, it is not their fault.”

And Varric gave the Seeker such a disgusted look that Cullen wondered how Cassandra didn’t smack him for it. “Seeker, she’s a young woman that hadn’t held a weapon before six months ago. When I said don’t let her see the effort, I was hoping that maybe those around me were smart enough to realize that _avoiding_ an assassination attempt entirely would be a lot better than letting the intended victim waltz into it!”

“She lives.” Cassandra snarled back.

“No thanks to any of us.” Varric barked back and silenced the carriage once again.

Cullen felt Josephine’s hand squeeze his, clasping her cold fingers into his almost too warm grip. “No, no thanks to any of us.” Cullen repeated Varric’s comment dully. “What do you plan to do to ensure tomorrow isn’t the same?” he challenged back.

“I’m not letting you send her back out there as bait!” Varric retorted immediately.

“And that won’t be suspicious looking at all to those that thought she’d been eliminated tonight?” Josephine queried; her polite question a lesson in disguise. “We cannot absent the Harbinger from Court tomorrow even if she’d allow us to; the Court accepts the Inquisition’s authority for now but some of that is based on our Harbinger’s foreknowledge. If they believe we have lost that advantage, they may not heed us at all.”

“So even though she nearly died tonight we’re what, wiping off the blood and sending her right back out there?” Varric was not at all mollified. Cullen was glad to see that Dawn had such a loyal friend, even if it was difficult.

“With every single one of us ready for them to make the attempt again.” Cullen sounded tired, not bothering to hide that fact.

Their carriage was slowing, the trip to their chalet short but somehow painfully long tonight. “Andraste better watch out for that girl, Maker knows we’ve failed her.” Varric finally spat and left them behind.

“He’ll come around,” Cassandra tried to offer her scant comfort. “It is… discomforting to realize that we were not told of the risk to Dawn; I wonder if we had all been told could one of us have helped avoid the attack?” he heard no blame in her tone though. Cassandra knew better than most that the decision to keep it quiet from everyone had to have come from Alena or Leliana, or both.

“She lives Cassandra, we can only take heart in that.” Josephine comforted this time and Cassandra left without another word.

Cullen reluctantly let Josephine’s hand go so he could exit the carriage and offer her assistance out. The Inquisitor’s carriage had already arrived and emptied and Cullen spared a moment to stare at the third carriage, the smudge of blood on the door a painful sight.

“Cullen…” Josephine sounded so hesitant, so unsure and he gave her his entire focus as they walked inside. “Her last act was almost ensuring that we had a moment of happiness.” He wasn’t sure where she was going with her commentary so he stayed silent, escorting her to the safety of her room.

Josephine once again hesitated, still with her arm linked through his. “Would you stay with me tonight Cullen? I…” she trailed off, lacking words to explain her request.

“Yes, in any way that you need me, I am yours.” He agreed, lifting her hand to kiss the back of it simply.

They spent the night in each other’s arms, seeking warmth and comfort and companionship against the dark thoughts howling in each of their heads. Cullen kissed Josephine’s hair after she finally succumbed to emotional exhaustion and slept; he planned to stay awake and guard her but the soft comfort of her in his arms lulled him into slumber as well.

\--

Josephine woke from an unpleasant dream to a pleasant reality, the comforting weight of the Commander’s arms holding her secure. Although she had invited to her room and even into her bed, he had been the soul of courtesy and care, making no move to take anything more than she had already given him. Chaste kisses and gentle touches, comfort and companionship when she needed it most.

She’d believed so much in the plan that Dawn wouldn’t get attacked that facing the reality that Dawn had almost died anyways left her cold. But this was the last day of the Peace Talks and Josephine had to prepare their Harbinger for the task ahead despite the setbacks of the night before.

The moment Josephine shifted to try and slip free, Cullen woke. His eyes focused in on her and he gave a smile that left Josephine’s heart racing. He kissed her, soft and slow, taking his time as if they had no other tasks to accomplish today and Josephine forgot about her duties for a moment, lost in the pleasure of his good morning kiss. He ended it only to cuddle her close whispering, “Please be safe today.”

“You as well Commander. I will be very put out with you if you get injured.” She warned, trying to sound stern to cover the very real concern haunting her.

Cullen had spent his life preparing to be a soldier, he’d actively survived much worse things than The Winter Palace and the Game. And yet Josephine still worried. He gravelly nodded and finally released her, seeming reluctant to let her go. “I have thought of a possible solution to increase Dawn’s security, once we’re with Leliana and the Inquisitor I can go over it with all of you to see if there are other steps we can take.”

“I’ll be taking care of the adjustments to Lady Dawn’s attire; I will not be in attendance to that meeting.” Josephine had to decline.

Cullen looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding. “I’m going to suggest that tonight Dawn always have at least one Inquisition Warrior or Rogue with her at all times, and a mage capable of barrier in eyesight. It won’t be as subtle as keeping her guards distant but it’s much safer for the Harbinger.”

Josephine smiled lightly, pleased that he had explained his plan simply because he liked to keep her in the loop. “I’m sure we’ll keep her safe tonight Cullen.” She rested her hand on his arm, silently thrilled to feel the heavy muscle even through his shirt. “I just need you to be safe as well.”

“And you.” Cullen agreed, a smirk dancing on his lips and Josephine found herself chasing it away with her mouth, in his arms and with her foot girlishly in the air.

Before she could become too distracted by how marvelous it felt, Josephine pulled herself out of the embrace. “To work Commander, you are far too distracting.” Her comment had him laughing as he politely bowed out of her room.

She turned her attention to the task of altering Dawn’s costume and getting the Harbinger ready for the evening. Dawn was in the privy when Josephine arrived, and the Ambassador set up the outfit to show Dawn.

“Your attire had to be altered to help cover the bruising, but it’s not as significant an alteration as you may expect. Your top should help conceal your wounds and still work with the entire assembly.” She babbled, not sure what to say in the face of Dawn’s obvious injuries.

A night of forced healing, a morning of care and attention and she still looked to be on the precipice of death. Josephine wanted to hug her friend, cry, shout at anyone that tried to force her back out there, and yet did none of these things because the Game required that Dawn be there tonight.

“I’m not worried about it Josie, but if you feel you need to do something to pick up my mood I would love to see you dance with Commander Cullen again tonight.” Dawn ignored her obvious anxiety.

“Again?” Josephine almost stumbled, wondering why Dawn would worry herself over something as trivial as that _now_.

“I won’t be able to sing as a distraction this time though. But I suspect having your little sister and the Orlesian Court see you dancing with the Commander will only help you. I know about the betrothal your parents are trying to arrange for you, but if they know about you and Cullen….” Dawn smiled and gave a shrug. “No one can argue about a match up with the Commander; whom you utterly respect and adore, and who absolutely cannot take his eyes off you.”

No one was supposed to know about the potential betrothal with Lord Ortranto; Josephine had tried to talk her parents out of it entirely but somehow Dawn’s world story even knew of this. But if what Dawn said was true…

“Truly?” she wanted nothing more than to be free to enjoy whatever her relationship with the Commander turned into.

“Yes, but he’s got some hang ups over nobility and his own sense of self-worth, so you may have to be more direct than you’d prefer.” Dawn cautioned and Josephine fought tears as she was reminded of the wonderful person they’d almost lost last night.

“I’ll keep what you’ve said in mind, thank you.” Josephine would do more than that and she knew it. “Now, I shall assist you into your attire for the evening.”

The bruising on Dawn’s neck was disguised by a soft collar of sanguine fabric that had strips attached to it. Those strips latticed across and under her bust; revealing glimpses of skin but not outright exposing her chest. Josephine had to refer to the sketch given to her for the Vitaar painted onto Dawn’s face, arms, and midriff though. And it was an absolute pleasure to brush and braid Dawn’s astonishingly long hair. All in all it wasn’t a huge shift from the original design, Josephine actually felt proud of it.

“Whomever you managed to get to redesign this is brilliant. Our enemies actually slit my throat and we’ve turned it into war paint.” Dawn complimented.

“I’m glad you like it.” Josie wasn’t surprised to see Leliana slink in. “We were ready for much more dire things than a simple wardrobe change.” The Bard lightly informed, watching Dawn intensely but not saying that she was the mastermind behind the alterations.

“So who are my shadows tonight?” Dawn broke the comfortable silence as Leliana helped Josephine with the Vitaar. Both Josie and Leliana were already ready, Josie’s white attire resisting all stains thanks to carefully inlaid spell work.

“Iron Bull is your primary companion tonight, with Solas providing magic support. The real events don’t start until after we have you with the Inquisitor for a dance, and then with Blackwall. After that you’ll be protected by Cassandra and Dorian, and then back to Bull.” Josephine caught Leliana’s amusement at the guards selected for Dawn’s protection detail and knew her friend was once again meddling. For a woman that could sometimes be a cold blooded killer, Leliana certainly enjoyed playing at arranging romance.

“I feel all warm and tingly.” Dawn joked, her nerves badly concealed. “At least I haven’t completely embarrassed the Inquisition yet.”

“You’re doing fine,” Leliana comforted, “much better than Siobhan and Alistair did their first year in court.”

“Your definition of fine is interesting.” Josephine made disagreeable noises in Dawn’s defense; it wasn’t her fault they hadn’t kept her safe. “Even with a heads up I failed to spot my assassin before he’d already pulled a knife on me.”

“After beheading Loghain, in front of his daughter, Siobhan and Alistair got engaged. As in, proposed in the still warm pool of blood of their vanquished enemy.” Leliana kept talking, likely to keep Dawn focused on something other than her fear.

“Having seen different versions of Alistair or others as Monarch, I can tell you that that’s still not the worst I’ve heard of.” Dawn’s comment left Josephine wondering just what else she knew, even if it had never actually happened. There were so many things Dawn knew and never spoke about, and now Josie was realizing that as many of those had to be nightmares as they were wonderful.

“That doesn’t surprise me.” Leliana grinned and Josephine decided to redirect their gossip before things got too sidetracked.

“I sincerely hope that none of us have to go through what the King and Queen of Ferelden had to endure.”

“I don’t know Josie; some of what we went through wasn’t so bad.” Leliana was deliberately vague.

“That tells me what happened when you all met Isabella…” Dawn’s comment caused Leliana to give her a sharply assessing look, even as Josephine kept from laughing herself. “Oh god, it’s true! I was joking!”

“Tell no one.” Leliana warned but the truth was everyone in the room had already heard about _that_ story.

“But Leli, then no one will know that side of you. And it’s quite the side to see.” Dawn teased with a wink as she opened the door.

Josephine shouldn’t have been surprised to see Iron Bull outside the room waiting for Dawn. “Red, Ruffles, I need to steal Dawn for a moment.” He offered with an apologetic smile.

She didn’t stop to think about it, Josephine stepped close to the towering Warrior. “One sign of tears or one hair out of place, and you will deal with me.” She warned, not at all joking.

“Yes Ma’am.” Iron Bull nodded, serious and respectful. That was the only reason Josephine let Leliana pull her away from the scene.

“I can tell you what they discuss later, now get down there.” Leliana whispered and vanished, Stealthing her way back to eavesdrop.

Josephine tried not to worry about it, she really did. Iron Bull was on thin ice with her and he knew it, Dawn did not need him making things worse right now, but Josie stayed silent about it as she reached the others. Partly because she wanted her friend to find happiness too and partly because she caught sight of Cullen in his Warrior’s attire.

She’d never realized she liked the colour red as much as she did; at least she did if he was wearing it. Cullen’s gold eyes and curls blazed above the red like sunrise over the mountains. He truly was beautiful, and he never ever saw it. She was supposed to ride in with the Inquisitor, Blackwall, and Dorian tonight, thought Josephine longed to sit close beside the Commander again, warm and secure in his embrace. But that was a foolish thought for another time, the Game was already begun. It was the final night at Halamshiral.


	6. Domesticity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CANON to Their Lady in Chains chapter title Penpals with Politics 
> 
> A not so quiet moment between a certain Tevinter of style and a Dalish First with a plan in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was supposed to be in in the last chapter of TLiC but the flow was off if I put in, and even now after it because I want to get the ball going on Adamant. But I couldn't NOT share it with you all.  
> Because honestly I like sharing smut.  
> Enjoy.

Cedric knew that things were far from settled at Skyhold despite the good turn of events his own personal life had taken. He had a growing relationship with Dorian that had moved past the flirt and avoid stage into something a little more stable, Doshiel’s training and control were accelerating at an incredible pace, and he had received word of Wycombe’s recovery from his Keeper. It was just too bad that those around him were having a far less enjoyable run of events.

Some flat ear had apparently tried to kill Dawn. He’d gotten word of the incident through the usual gossip grape vine, most of the stories overlapping on the important details though a few he had good reason to doubt. He wasn’t sure how much of what he had heard was reliable or not, and given how many people were already likely hounding her with questions or protections Cedric figured it would be best to seek his answers elsewhere.

Thankfully he had a Tevinter mage lounging in the bed next to him and could simply ask his opinion.

“Question for you as a Tevinter trained mage,” Cedric precluded his question with a warning and Dorian gave him his complete focus, “the lyrium ghost Kirkwaller; is how his markings reacted to Dawn consistent to how your magic has acted around her?”

“I think trying to apply the words consistent, magic, and Dawn in one sentence is a mistake.” Dorian sounded genuinely disgusted and Cedric sat up properly to look at him in surprise. “You weren’t there at Halamshiral, but I set a Barrier over her that just vanished as if it had never existed. Kaaras has used Healing magic on her without struggle but the Health Potions do the barest minimum to help her, and not a single one of us can actually predict what will and will not work on her, for her, or with her around.”

“I had detected some of those inconsistencies while trying to observe her in the Fade but I had thought that was more a reflection on the current unsettled nature of the Fade.” Cedric admitted, reviewing his own interactions of magic and Dawn. Only he hadn’t ever really used magic ON Dawn, just around her.

“I think those inconsistencies may have saved her life as much as they also put her in danger.” Dorian seemed academically intrigued by the concept, but then again Cedric had heard about his part in the origins of Time Magic too. Curiosity is often what captured the fox after all.

It was definitely something to think about, but the way Dorian looked propped up in bed with a book flapped over on his thigh shunted the curiosity aside rather effectively. His Tevinter Prince had a slightly furrowed brow, seriousness for the topic at hand and not yet realizing that Cedric’s focus had changed to something far more enjoyable than a discourse on Dawn’s Otherness. The strange one-shouldered tunic was gone, Dorian’s chest bared and fading marks of passion dotted along his collar bone like badges of pride. Cedric had enjoyed leaving them and was considering bestowing a whole new necklace of love-bites to replace the one disappearing.

“It may be prudent to carefully and methodically test magic on Dawn and how she differs to its application than…” Dorian kept talking until he realized Cedric was not reacting to the conversation at hand but was definitely reacting to him. A slight flush stained the peacock’s skin and he cleared his throat. Even regularly sharing his bed with the Tevinter Prince hadn’t entirely erased that insecurity but Cedric was certainly enjoying the attempts to show Dorian that he was very much wanted.

“M’aurem, I thought you wanted to discuss Dawn?” he even sounded chiding and yet Cedric smirked as he saw Dorian’s breathing deepen.

Cedric wasn’t a Hunter for the Clan but right now he was certain he came across predatory. Luckily for him that was the way Dorian liked their romance. “I did, but then I started to look at you and now the only thing I want is to make you cry out repeatedly.”

A much more pronounced flush started to creep up Dorian’s neck, not embarrassment but arousal and a sign Cedric was all too glad to see. He was still learning the little things that did and did not work on his peacock Prince and it was a lot of fun to discover the extent of them. Cedric shifted his weight closer to the larger mage.

“I don’t hear you telling me to stop Tevinter Prince.” Cedric’s tone was more husky, desire and arousal displayed without concern as he slowly leaned in to press a kiss beside Dorian’s mouth, feeling the hairs of his moustache tickle his own in return. And then Cedric acted entirely nonchalant and sat back onto his side of the bed with, “but I also don’t hear you saying yes so I’ll stop.”

Dorian gave an indignant, displeased sound and took the lead himself; much to Cedric’s delight. His peacock rolled over, thighs hard around Cedric’s hips and hands pressed to his shoulders to hold him back so Dorian could lean in close, “Yes, please, make me cry out.” Dorian’s own seduction stole Cedric’s breath for a moment, astonished that he could have that kind of reaction from a lover so quickly.

Cedric’s hand cupped the back of Dorian’s head, grip ruining the careful style as he kissed his Tevinter Prince almost harshly. Dorian’s hands and weight pressed down against him, heavy and solid and so very satisfying with the way his shifted around, eager and seeking friction against his growing erection. Cedric’s other hand roughly grabbed one of Dorian’s gloriously shaped buttock and pulled him tight against his body, his own very ardent arousal unmistakable as he pressed as much of his body against Dorian as possible.

It was like trying to grapple with one of the Great Cats his Clan encountered in the forests; Dorian was all lithe muscle and sinewy movement and Cedric was losing himself to the enjoyment of handling the man currently sucking his bottom lip. He shifted his grip and dragged nails across that perfect ass and Dorian made such a demanding sound that it brought a triumphant grin to Cedric’s face. Even if the Tevinter Prince wasn’t shifting to let him take advantage of the moment Cedric didn’t care; he flung his hand out to search for the oil he needed all without abandoning Dorian’s mouth.

The sound Dorian made when Cedric returned his hand to his body, this time oiled, was deceptively demure. Right up until his fingers breached his tight pucker slightly and then Dorian made a far less delicate sound. Cedric laughed lightly, satisfaction and amusement as he deliberately tormented Dorian with little dips and caresses of his oiled fingers, but not properly sinking them in yet. Though he did relocate his free hand to grasp Dorian’s now fully flushed and erect cock to add to the torment.

Dorian gave him his first cry of frustration, hips trying to rock back to deepen the penetration even as he likely wanted to shoot forwards for the friction of Cedric’s hand. Cedric savoured the sound, wanting to draw so many more like it out of his Prince.

The next sound Dorian made was closer to a grunt than a cry but Cedric still considered it acceptable, stilling his hand now that his fingers were buried deep and focusing instead on kissing his peacock into complacency. Dorian’s body was giving involuntary little shudders and twitches; movements outside of his bodily control as he wanted to chase the pleasure Cedric’s hands were taunting him with.

“Si autem ego vado vos non festina vobis os et ganniret.” There was definitely a demanding whine to whatever it was Dorian was saying and Cedric didn’t need a translation to understand.

So Cedric released Dorian’s cock, only so that he could pull his lover’s hips higher, sliding his own body lower to help line up properly. It took far too much control to resist thrusting in deep, instead Cedric pressed the head of his erection against Dorian and paused. “Show me what you want my Prince.” His voice had gotten rough with the exertion holding himself still demanded.

Now Dorian did cry out, frustration and annoyance and pleasure as he pushed down and over Cedric’s erection. Cedric groaned, unable to remain unaffected as he felt the hot, almost painfully tight grip of Dorian’s body even with the oil slicking him. His hands gripped tight to Dorian’s hip, afraid that he’d move and take away the glorious confinement even as he really wanted Dorian to move and drive them both crazy. So he brushed mana up against Dorian’s aura, knowing that it would feel as intimate a caress as his cock inside Dorian did.

Dorian squirmed as if Cedric had used lightening instead of harmless mana and it felt exquisite, this time the sounds all Cedric’s own. He’d asked his peacock to show him what he wanted and yet now it was almost impossible not to take charge and drag their bodies through to exhausted ecstasy. Seeming to realize the change in Cedric’s intentions, Dorian grabbed his hands and pressed them above his head, shifting his weight to keep Cedric pinned down and driving his cock further into Dorian’s body as well.

They cried out together, agonized pleasure as Dorian kept his position on top. “You asked me to show you what I want m’aureum, and what I want is you laying right there until I say otherwise.” Dorian growled out, keeping his grip almost painfully tight around Cedric’s wrists.

So Cedric took advantage of the shift in position to pull out a little and thrust back upwards tauntingly. Dorian gave a sound, not expecting the move but pushing back into it all the same. So Cedric did it again, feeling the quiver to Dorian’s thighs that said for all his protestations otherwise he very much wanted Cedric to drive the pace. A third time and Dorian’s resistance gave way with a frustrated cry, his body bouncing in encouragement to keep Cedric driving his hips upwards.

There were going to be bruises around his wrists from Dorian and Cedric didn’t care at all, lost to the sensation of Dorian riding him, each lift and drop of his lover’s body a shockwave of pleasure as Dorian showed him exactly what he wanted. Hard, fast, deep and unsteady, both of them making far too much noise to ever be discreet and utterly uncaring of it. Even if Cedric could have Dorian a hundred times a day it was never enough, the Tevinter Prince was an addiction like none other.

And then Dorian sent a chill of magic burning through him; Necromancy that brought a shout to Cedric’s lips even as his thrusts lost any sense of rhythm, devolving into base need. Dorian’s pleasured moan in response spurred him onwards, the sounds of their bodies slamming together a clap of encouragement and Cedric managed to finally pry a hand off of Dorian’s hip to firmly grasp his cock.

Dorian cried out at the sensation, spurting into Cedric’s hand even as he held steady for Cedric’s frantic pounding. Cedric’s final moan was suddenly cut off, the pleasured sound swallowed by Dorian’s panting kiss.

They were both out of breath, bodies hypersensitive and throbbing in aftereffect and Cedric wanted to hold onto this beautiful man for an eternity. Or at least for as long as they both survived.

Dorian slid his body away from Cedric’s giving a groan as he settled back onto his side of the bed. “I think we ruined my book.”

The Tevinter Prince’s comment made no sense at first until Cedric looked down to see where the book Dorian had been reading was crushed. It must have slid off of his lap at some point and was now truly battered and stained with what Cedric hoped was oil and figured was not. Cedric couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out, seeing Dorian’s eyes glitter with amusement as well.

“It was sacrificed to a good cause my Princely Peacock.” He finally controlled his laughter.

“We’ll see about that.” Dorian challenged and Cedrick wondered if his recovery time was up for showing his peacock what attitude like that would earn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translate:  
> Tevene  
> Si autem ego vado vos non festina vobis os et ganniret.”  Loosely translated from Latin to mean: If you don’t hurry up I am going to scream at you


	7. Piece of Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon to Their Lady in Chains, fits into the chapter called Echoes, Ripples and Reactions after Alena speaks with Leliana. 
> 
> Cullen's last night as a Commander in Peacetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was on Tumblr and offered Inkinthepen a Valentine's day gift: pick any two characters and I'll write a scene. Ink picked Cullen and Josephine and here is the scene I created. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> No editing was done sorry!

The soldierly were going to be demanding the entirety of his attention on the morrow and Cullen fretted over how much of the night he had already lost. The sun had set long ago, the limited hours of this last day draining like sand in a time piece. He was supposed to be in bed, sleeping quite possibly for the last time in his bed. Cullen was a practical man, and not the type of Commander to lead from the rear; he knew there was a likelihood that he would fall in the battle to come. Such was the fate all soldiers had to accept, though for most it was certainly fought against fervently.

His maudlin line of thought was thankfully cut off when there was a soft knock at his door. “Come in.” he called out, a limited number of people likely to seek his attention at this hour.

It was a pleasure to see Lady Montilyet enter with a lantern guiding her steps. “Commander, somehow I knew that you would still be up. If your room is too drafty I insist you finally allow me to arrange repairs.” She alluded to the hole in his roof that he insisted on keeping.

Josephine had the serious tones of the Ambassador but her hair was unpinned from its always perfect bun. He swallowed, mouth going dry at seeing the dark waves of her hair tumbling around her shoulders while the warm light of the lantern added a glow to her cheeks. She looked soft and beautiful, delicate though he knew she had steel in her soul because he’d lost far too many arguments to ever believe otherwise.

“My dear Lady Montilyet, through that hole you so disparage I am able to see the stars. Though I imagine that compared to what I see before me it’s a paltry thing tonight.” His tongue felt thick around the flowery language but it was worth the effort to see her eyes widen with delight.

“You’ve been practicing Commander.” She barred the door behind her and walked over to his desk, setting the lantern down as she passed by it.

Cullen sat back from whatever report he’d been working on and Josephine leant over to brush a rewarding kiss across his lips lightly. “You’ve found a marvelous way to motivate me, my Lady.”

Josephine, he had discovered, was far more affectionate in private than she had ever let on in public and he enjoyed every minute of it. She stayed by his chair so he took the opportunity to curl his arm around her hips, pulling the Ambassador onto his lap entirely. With her properly embraced on his lap he buried his face into the hair and ruffles of her shoulder, letting the flowery scent lingering on her soothe his headache. He kept his arms around her, feeling Josephine settle without complaint. The time apart from her would be all the more desolate knowing what he was missing.

As if she could read his mind, Josephine carded her fingers through his hair, nails scraping hard enough to send prickle flesh down his arms. “Eustace Morris will see to it that you and the others have all the equipment you need. Don’t let the Quartermaster’s lack of self-confidence fool you, he’s more than capable of the job he was given.” She reviewed information he already had, voice low and soft and soothing.

“And Killeen is a capable Lieutenant, she will not allow Skyhold to fall.” He repeated his own redundant reminder, knowing that there was nothing else he could really say that would make leaving tomorrow any easier.

He was the Commander of the Inquisition’s army, his place was marching with them. Josephine, as Ambassador, had no place at War. He was grateful the Inquisitor had insisted that Josephine remain at Skyhold even though he ached to have her with him where he could ensure she was safe. There was no good way to be both a man besotted and Commander, the best he could do was be honest about both. He lifted his head from her shoulder and pressed a soft kiss to that tempting freckle on her jaw and her arms squeezed tightly around his shoulders.

“Be safe my Lion.” Josephine’s plea was thick, her voice tight with emotions she contained.

Cullen laughed softly, the name the Court had gifted to him now an affectionate term he’d never expected to delight in. “As safe as a lifetime training can make me my Lady.” Was the best could promise. Leliana had given him the choke points that would help reduce the scope of the battle, but the truth was that the Inquisition might not be able to defeat Corypheus’ army outright. The best Cullen and his soldiers may be able to do was cut off reinforcements and carve the Inquisitor a path to Warden-Commander Clarel like Dawn had suggested. There was no way laying siege to a fortress full of demons was going to be anything other than hard-fought from start to finish.

“Our allies have sent their sappers and trebuchets to meet up with you closer to the Western Approach and Adamant.” Josephine had recovered her composure, ever the diplomat.

“And I will be surrounded by an army. Our Inquisitor and Harbinger will be at far greater risk.” It wasn’t a lie, though Cullen didn’t point out that he wasn’t actually going to be all that much safer.

“Show me the stars you see,” Josephine’s request surprised him, “the constellations you seek for comfort so that even while you are far away from me I can look up and know they’re guiding you still.”

Cullen couldn’t speak in response, voice stolen from her sweetness so instead he scooped his grip under her, standing with Josephine still in his arms. The best he could do was carry her to the ladder up, even his strength didn’t allow for holding her in his arms while also climbing, and they both remained silent as he set her on her feet at the base. Josephine lightly traced her fingers along his jaw for a moment before turning to the ladder and climbing far more swiftly than someone in that many ruffles really ought to be able to manage.

He followed as closely behind as he could, some part of him deeply satisfied to have both Ambassador and the stars with him tonight. The upper level of his office had been repaired compared to the ruin it had been so many months ago despite the hole remaining in the roof. The floorboards were swept clean of debris, carpets laid for comfort and the cot he’d utilized had at one point even been replaced with a proper bed. It was a suitable room for a soldier and for the first time Cullen worried that it might be far less than he needed for someone as refined as Josephine.

She didn’t even notice, eyes trained upwards towards the hole and the stars peeking through. “I look for Peraquialus first,” Cullen announced into the silence, causing Josephine to look towards him. “There’s something about the voyager that reminds me that we are always on a journey and yet where ever I have gone I could always see it. After that it’s no surprise that I look for Judex.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down from Josephine’s warm expression.

She held her hand out towards him and Cullen looked back up. “Peraquialus will be what I look for at night then. And I will look for it and know the same stars shine down where you are too.”

He took her hand, stepping towards her even as she stepped in to him in return. Cullen felt her arm tuck in around his waist as he kept his grip on her hand and the other lifted her chin up so he could kiss her. He didn’t think about the stars, the paltry state of his rooms, or even the looming war for the small fragment of night left to them. Instead Cullen bent his focus to Josephine and every kiss he could give her now that they would miss come the morrow.


	8. A Simple Tune, A Simple Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon to Their Lady in Chains, can be read after Knowledge, Wisdom, Intelligence
> 
> Solas' mind is uneasy about so many things and what he bears witness to does not help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a Valentine's gift to Avalantia, I offered to write a scene about any 2 characters. Solas and Dawn were picked, and this time I decided to go less sexy and more canon.  
> Again a short scene with no editing done.
> 
> Enjoy!

Solas knew that most others were still asleep and that he was relatively alone though it was technically morning. Certainly the kitchen staff were already hard at work, the smell of baking bread was wafting in the air and he could hear the sounds of voices echoing but without making out any distinct words. And yet for all that he knew he should have sought his own sleep hours ago he was still restlessly pacing through the Keep that had once been the seat of his Power.

Halamshiral had not gone to plan. In the end the Inquisition was utterly successful but the cost was nearly far too high. Every time he slept he saw her covered in blood again, felt the weakness of her pulse under his hands as he strove to push magic into and through her. He had managed to burn out the poison that had nearly killed Ena’vun before the potions could work to save her, but Solas knew it had been far too near a thing. If Cole hadn’t gotten the warning to them as soon as he did, if Dawn hadn’t held out for as long as she had, Solas would have watched her die.

He angrily forced the thought from his head, feet continuing their relentless charge to bleed out the conflicting emotions his head struggled with. He climbed the stairs to the higher levels of the Keep, circling the long way around to come back down to his frescoes and hopefully put this agitated energy to good use. Solas made it into the Spymaster’s aviary before he heard someone down in his space and he hid in the shadows to peer down.

Dawn looked as sleepless as he felt, as unrested as she had seemed since Halamshiral even after they had banished Fear. He had done what he could to help, had offered the limited comfort available to counter the damage done to this remarkable woman. The memory he’d witnessed looped over and over to torment her had told him a bit of who she had been, and he carefully compared that image of Dawn to Ena’vun as she was now.

Physically it was like comparing two separate people; Ena’vun had the grace and poise of a Warrior now, movements sure and confident whereas the Dawn he had witnessed in the Fade memory moved like most young things, energetic, untested and uncontained. She had been the unwoven tapestry, pigments of paint waiting to be stirred and used by a master artist but Ena’vun had evolved and become her own masterpiece. The strength to face her worst moment over and over, flinching in the face of it but never ever breaking for it.

She had broken once though and run to him for comfort, an act that had shaken all Solas had believed about himself. That someone so purely good would seek him out, and if he was right in suspecting she knew who he truly was and had been that only made it a more telling act. He wanted to be the person she believed him to be, he’d been honest in telling the Elgar'ladarelan that.

In any other frame of mind Solas would have called out to alert Ena’vun to his presence but he was too agitated to be good companionship and so he folded the Fade around him as a shroud, content to observe for now even as he came down the stairs for a closer view.

She was staring at the frescoes he had already painted on the walls; the occurrence of the Breach, the formation of the Inquisition, reclaiming the mages, and even the fall of Haven. Her hand reached out to touch the layers of plaster and paint he had worked so carefully to tell more than the story others suspected and yet she never finished the gesture. She had expressed before how terrible it would be to ruin his work and yet a part of him would allow her that right.

Solas stopped breathing when Dawn started to sing. Her eyes closed, face lifted to utilize the echoing resonance of the circular open tower, and Solas knew she had come here specifically to try this song in this space. He felt no shame when tears tracked down his cheek, pulled free by the simple effect of her singing Mir Da’len Somniar in Elvhen. She’d done something similar to him in Halamshiral with her own world’s song and yet this was more devastating.

Dawn’s song finished and those eyes opened, delighted seeming at the echoes the space offered, the ethereal essence it lent her voice. Solas had been lucky enough to witness so many moments of her musicality and yet each one revealed more about Ena’vun than could ever be reasonably expected. He wanted to beg her to sing it again, to teach her every song he could possibly recall so that when he thought of them in the future it was with her voice. He wanted to confirm she knew who he was so that he finally had an answer to the question even as he feared every really knowing.

Ena’vun remained oblivious to the agony of indecision rooting him to the spot, the Fade shroud working as always to conceal him from easy view. He didn’t want to chase Dawn away by revealing his presence but still Solas could not resist coming down the final flight of stairs when she once again sang that first song he’d heard from her.

Only this time she’d translated it into his tongue instead of Common.

Her face was more animated this time, emotions flitting across without the heartbreak that had so stained her the last time. The gold piercings he’d laced through her ears recently glittered like Spirit Wisps, refracting the light of the candles illuminating the space and Solas walked surrounded by the Fade until he was almost close enough to reach out and touch her.

She finished singing of bluebirds and rainbows, eyes still closed and a smile on her face when Solas Stepped away before he could do something wonderfully irreversible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:  
> Elvhen  
> Elgar'ladarelan- Healer of Spirits
> 
> *audio of song in acapella:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RHaxe4jbQUQ  
> Lyrics:  
> Elgara vallas, da'len - Sun sets, little one,  
> Melava somniar - Time to dream  
> Mala tara aravas - Your mind journeys,  
> Ara ma'desen melar - But I will hold you here
> 
> Iras ma ghilas, da'len - Where will you go, little one  
> Ara ma'nedan ashir - Lost to me in sleep?  
> Dirthara lothlenan'as - Seek truth in a forgotten land  
> Bal emma mala dir - Deep within your heart
> 
> Tel'enfenim, da'len - Never fear, little one,  
> Irassal ma ghilas - Wherever you shall go  
> Ma garas mir renan - Follow my voice  
> Ara ma'athlan vhenas - I will call you home  
> Ara ma'athlan vhenas - I will call you home


End file.
